Silver Lining
by NaturalCamouflage
Summary: "In just a few sentences, he'd managed to catch me in my mental freefall. It wasn't the wording that had made me stop. It was him, his eyes."
1. Chapter 1

"Have a great day. See you tomorrow!" Chirped the lively chestnut haired cahier as she handed me my usual drink.

Forcing a smile, I nodded and turned to grab a straw from the set up they had off to the side. It wasn't the cheeriness that bothered me. In fact, it was rather refreshing considering the lack of genuine contact I had with people on a daily basis. Most people simply grit their teeth and go through the day with a bit of small talk here and there, but their real connection and emotion was reserved for those they personally know.

I was no exception. The only difference was that I'd shut everyone out. Always, my attempts to connect with others had been met with disdain. I either couldn't bring myself to reveal my reasons for being distant or I was misunderstood before trust had begun to form.

_"I sure hope the next guy can deal with all of your crazy, you cold hearted bitch."_

_ The door slammed, shaking the nearby paintings. I just stood there for a moment. Was I really all that cold? I'd tried so hard to make this work. I'd taken every insult, every verbal slap to the face. I'd taken every unwanted and sometimes forced advance. I'd even taken every half hearted apology tossed my way just to make this work._

_ No, this wasn't my fault. I just couldn't explain why I'd shied away sometimes. No matter how many times I tried to say that I still cared and that I wasn't cheating on him, he didn't hear me. So why would I even bother telling him that I'd been abused in the past? It's not like he'd hear that either._

_ I'd tried getting help. I tried counseling and medication, but it didn't help. I suppose it wouldn't since I couldn't even give the truth to my doctor, too ashamed. Over time, with all of the verbal and sometimes sexual abuse in addition to my nonexistent self esteem, I'd gotten worse. Adding hallucinations to my occasionally debilitating depression._

_ A single tear made its way down my cheek. All I'd been left with was that last one. It'd made its way out as much as I wish it hadn't because with it went my faith in whatever I'd been holding onto._

Turning on my heel to leave, I snatched a straw and began to fumble with it until I came to an abrupt stop. Actually, I had bumped into someone and spilled my drink all over the floor after losing my grip. "I'm so sorry; did I spill any on you?" I blurted out as I quickly turned back to grab a wad of napkins from the dispenser.

A soft chuckle escaped the man before he answered, "No, it's okay. Just a little on my shoes, but they're fine. Are you okay?"

"I wasn't paying attention, I'm so sorry." Continuing to ramble on, I quickly tried to soak up as much of the liquid as I could before an employee came with a mop. Finally standing up and giving the employee a sheepish look accompanied with another apology, I quickly made my exit of the small shop.

Why couldn't I do anything right? I'd been given chances over and over again and somehow it didn't make a difference. I would promise not to let myself get so down as to where it would interfere with my activities, but it always crept up on me and I'd fail. Have I become so useless that I can't even go to a coffee shop without messing up?

The day dragged on as usual, just as it did every day. What was the point? I wasn't destined to do anything, so why was I here taking up space? Pondering these questions, I took up a spot on the roof of the office I worked at. I'd stayed late to try and earn some overtime to make ends meet.

It was always so peaceful at night, away from the chaos below. Staring out over the skyline, I faced away from the brightest building in the city. Stark Industries had just rebuilt their lighthouse of a building nearby, impressive as it may be, it still paled in comparison to the stars that hung in the sky.

As flashy as the new building was, I along with the rest of the city took comfort in knowing that we were so close to Tony Stark, a protector and direct link to the Avengers if we should face certain doom once more. Breathing deeply, I looked over the ledge I'd been sitting on and thought of how only months ago this small area had been left in shambles after an intergalactic war had taken place.

"You're not thinking of jumping off, are you?"

Alarmed, I swung myself to face the man intruding on my thoughts. Everyone was supposed to have gone home by now. "How'd you get up here?" I stood, recognizing the man from the coffee shop earlier. Had he followed me?

Cautiously he offered me one of the two coffee cups he'd been holding, but I didn't take it. "Being friends with Tony Stark opens a lot of doors." He smiled uneasily as I eyed him closely, ready to make my escape if need be.

"And who are you then?" Not wanting to take my eyes off of him, I carefully moved around him and away from my seat on the ledge in case things turned ugly.

"Bruce." He stated simply, and then elaborated upon my unwavering stare, "Bruce Banner. I assist Tony in his research every now and again."

I'd heard that name somewhere, maybe from an article or something. It was quiet for a moment as I studied him. He shifted nervously under my gaze, but something told me it wasn't from weariness of me. "Do you have proof?"

Again, another hint of a smile played on his face, "You sure are careful." He paused, "I guess you have to be when living in a place like this."

I assumed he was referring to the events that literally tore through the city months ago. Refusing to let my guard down, I waited for him to produce some sort of proof. Once more he offered me the drink.

"I need my hand free so I can get to my wallet." He elaborated, still holding out the drink for me. "It's just hot chocolate. You rushed out of the shop so quickly this morning, you never ordered another drink."

Relieving him of the drink and moving just out of arms reach, I waited as he produced a Stark Industries ID from his wallet and held it out for me to see. Despite the darkness of night, the looming Stark building provided enough light for me to read the card. "How'd you find me?" I asked, not missing a beat.

Storing the wallet and ID in his pocket again he squinted at me for a moment as if finding my question odd. It dawned on him a second later that I didn't have the whole story, "I was working in one of the labs and took a break." He gestured vaguely to the upper floors of the Stark building. "And then I saw you sitting on the ledge here and recognized you."

Nodding, I accepted the story after glancing and assessing how close the buildings were. Finally releasing a tense breath, my shoulders relaxed and I leaned against the ledge I'd been seated on a few minutes ago.

"For a moment I thought you might be thinking of jumping." Pausing as if thinking of his next statement, he continued, "You just looked so sad somehow this morning…I thought-" He stopped himself as he seemed to be deeply contemplating something.

Taking the moment to observe him, I noticed a familiar look in his eyes and he moved to a spot on the ledge as well. His eyes were kind, but under that there looked to be pain. Maybe I was mistaken. Again, he seemed agitated by something unknown to me. A bad memory perhaps? Just as quickly as it appeared, it was gone as he looked up at me.

"So what brought you up here?"


	2. Chapter 2

Surprised slightly by the bluntness of the question, I took a moment to reply, "It's easier to think up here."

"I could see that." Sipping on his drink, he took in the surroundings. "There's a nice view from the tower, but it's always better when you can feel the fresh air too."

I mirrored him, tasting my drink as well. "Thank you for the drink."

He nodded absent-mindedly as we lapsed into an uneasy silence. It was obvious that we both had plenty of questions formulating in our minds, we just had yet to put words to them.

"What's your name?" He asked suddenly, an odd smile tugging at his lips as he was most likely thinking about the hard time I'd given him.

I shrugged, briefly glancing over the edge of the building, "Doesn't really matter, now does it?"

For a moment his gaze hardened as if my answer alarmed him, but again the expression was fleeting as he regained his composure. "I think so." She didn't strike him as someone to be weary of. In fact, most of the time an agent would have replied immediately with a false identity. This was simply someone down on their luck, nothing more, and no one to be too guarded around. He reminded himself of this when she shook her head and didn't replay. "You know, even though things may seem bleak at times, you should still hold on." He murmured thoughtfully.

"Hold onto what? I lost everything a long time ago." I gave a bitter laugh as I thought about my current mental state.

"Self pity will land you…well here actually." He faltered slightly, the nervous tick coming back.

A sardonic laugh escaped my lips as I stood up to leave, "Like I haven't heard that one before." I moved to start walking and he stood to catch my wrist. The grasp was gentle, but firm and he released my arm as soon as I pulled away.

"I mean-" He shifted, "I mean that I understand how it feels… to hurt so much that you're screaming on the inside…to want to give up." He seemed to be staring off into the past for a moment, but was brought back when I moved to take another sip of the hot chocolate, deliberating over what he'd said.

Usually it was hard to believe someone when they said that they understood. Most of the time, they _thought _that they understood, but in actuality they weren't even close. Before even knowing what was wrong, most people jumped to conclusions and passed my feelings off to simply having a bad day. This time was different for some reason, maybe it was the earnest look in his face or the gentleness of his voice, but for some reason I felt that he actually had felt the same way if not worse at some point.

_Failure. That was all I could see no matter how hard I looked. I didn't see myself in the mirror, I hadn't seen myself in a while. Somewhere along the line, my image morphed into something. What that thing was, I couldn't tell you, but it sure wasn't me. But mirrors don't distort things too much, so maybe it's right._

_My phone buzzed on my dresser, jolting me back to reality. Without another glance, I picked up the phone and turned away from the mirror, "Where the hell were you? I've been calling for the past half hour! Are you with someone?" No hello. No expression of concern except for where I was. The usual by now I suppose._

"_No, I was in the shower. Sorry I didn't hear the phone ring." I replied meekly, knowing the answer didn't matter._

_There was an impatient sigh on the other side, "You know, you could just save me the trouble and tell me if you're seeing someone."_

"_I'm not, why is it so hard to believe that I was in the shower?"_

"_Because every time I try to come by, you say that you're tired or have some appointment." He scoffed, muttering something under his breath that I didn't care to catch._

"_That's because I sleep when I'm depressed, okay?" I sighed heavily, "You know I have appointments, I've been trying to get better."_

"_So you need happy pills to be with me?"_

"_That's not what I said." How does this always end up being my fault? There was a small click, signaling the end of the conversation._

_Sighing, I placed my phone back on the dresser and looked back at the mirror. Maybe I'm doing something wrong? It wouldn't be the first time. I should just give up. I can't stay happy and all I do is drag other people down._

"It was only recently that I-" His voice snapped me back. "That I started to look at myself in a positive way." He paused again, carefully wording his thoughts, "It's been a long time since I've been able to see anything good in myself and I'm still learning how to find the silver lining, but it's made me see that even in the worst of situations, there has to be a bit of good somewhere."

In just a few sentences, he'd managed to catch me in my mental freefall. It wasn't the wording that had made me stop. It was him, his eyes. Even through the dark, I could see the mingling of honesty, pain, and hope was it? I wasn't too sure about the last one, but nonetheless it reached down to my core. The odd thing was, while he had managed to do so, he also did so in such a way where he revealed nothing and everything simultaneously.

I stood there speechless for a moment. All I could do was take everything in. He was studying me now, waiting for some sort of reaction. So was I. Opening my mouth slightly, I waited for words to come out, but they never came. Pursing my lips, I tried to form a reply in my head.

"I'm not going to pry; your business is your own." Shifting again in his curious way, he went on, "But if you'd like to talk, I'm listening."

Remaining rooted to the ground, I stared blankly for a moment before seating myself on the ledge once more. I'm not sure how long we sat there in silence, but he didn't seem to mind. He waited patiently, quietly sipping on his drink and looking out over the city lights.

From my peripheral vision I could see that he was lost in his own thoughts by the time I'd gathered mine. "How did you learn to look at yourself differently?"

"Hmm?" He turned to face me, "Well I'm not perfect and I've had a lot of help along the way…but let's just say that something good came out of finally being able to release a lot of pent up anger." A faint smile traced his lips at the double entendre known only by himself and a few others.

"So you talked through your problems?" I wasn't sure of what he meant by his answer.

"Uh…more or less." He broke off to think of a better answer, "I'm coming to terms with myself and so far have been able to reach an equilibrium, so to speak."

Sipping my now cold drink, I nodded slightly and tried to put the words into perspective for my own life. "I see…"

"For the longest time I saw myself as…a monster." His voice came in a whisper at first, but became more certain as he went on, "But you have to realize that some things aren't your fault." He thought for a second, "You have to try to look for the good, even though the future may seem unsure."

"Seems easier said than done." I observed, not meaning for it to be a snarky remark.

He smiled slightly, chuckling to himself, "Oh it is. Trust me, I'm still learning." His smile faded and he caught my eye, "But if you should need someone to listen while you sort things out…" He trailed off.

I watched him for a moment, understanding what he meant. Although neither of us had revealed anything, we would always know there was someone there who understood. Maybe we didn't know a thing about the other's life, but somewhere inside, there was a shared emotion.

Looking back down at the city, I'd noticed how the nightlife had slowed down significantly since the last time I'd paid attention. "Oh, I'm so sorry. Have I been keeping you from your research?" I gasped, realizing that hours had slipped by with us simply sitting on the roof.

He chuckled again, this time a bit louder, "Not at all. I chose to come out here and besides, Tony uses his Jarvis program for everything." He sobered up quickly before continuing, "I did enjoy the company and I do mean what I'd said."

And with that, an odd friendship had begun. It was uncertain and strange with both of us trying to comfort one another and guard ourselves at the same time, but it was still some sort of friendship nonetheless. Somehow I knew this was a very rare thing for either of us to do, attempting to connect with someone completely new that is. It was a foreign idea to the both of us and approached with much caution. I guess we'd both have to see where this leads.

"You never did tell me your name."

"Rachel."


	3. Chapter 3

For the next few days I was able to put on a brave face and muddle my way through after mentally putting on my boxing gloves and getting ready for another round with life. I'd almost been out for good, but had miraculously been given the will to try again by a complete stranger. As peculiar and almost impressive as that was, I still couldn't help wondering what would happen. Would I have finally found someone that understood? Or would this end in pain? The friendship, if it could be called that, was based on an awkward balance of comfort, weariness, and curiosity.

Since our first encounter, I'd only called once. At first I wanted to see if we could meet up again, but then I'd thought better of it. If this was going to work out, I didn't want to use him as a crutch just because I was feeling down. I needed a friend, not a therapist. So instead of asking anything, I simply asked for him to make small talk with me.

_"Hello?" He'd picked up by the third ring._

_ "Uh…Hey, it's Rachel." This was awkward._

_ "Mhm, I remember." He waited for a moment for me to continue, but when I didn't he began again, "Are you okay?"_

_ I sat up a bit more, trying to figure out what to say. Did I really sound bad? Or was he just taking a guess? "Yeah…uh, I'm not distracting you from your work am I?"_

_ I could hear footsteps as he moved to find a quiet place. "Not at all, I was just about to take a break anyway."_

_ He was probably just saying that to be polite. Why did I even bother calling? I knew I'd just get in the way—stop it. Stop doing that. "…I was just wondering if…well I-" I couldn't get the words out. He'd think I'm needy._

_ He waited for the rest of the sentence, but it never came. I could hear rustling on the other side, most likely him checking to see if we'd lost connection. "Are you sure you're okay? You sound a little-"_

_ "Can we just talk?" I interrupted. I didn't want to talk about anything serious. I just needed reinforcement._

_ He was quiet for a second. "Sure." He paused, sensing that something was amiss, but played along, "What would you like to talk about?"_

_ "Anything. Why the sky is blue, the weather, music…anything." My thoughts were whirling around too fast for me to make sense of them. I just needed something to ground me back to earth._

_ "Okay."_

Although neither of us had mentioned anything about our pasts, I wondered when it would be that I would be the comforting one. Each time so far it'd been me on the verge of a breakdown while he remained calm. How is it that he kept so calm? That night I could have sworn I saw something bubbling under the surface, but he managed whatever it was well. Or at least, that's what it looked like for now. Just how long can he withstand the pressure before something cracks? I hope that doesn't happen, but if it does, I'll try to help put things back together.

We did eventually meet again a while later. I wasn't quite sure if he'd simply wanted to see if my head was still in once piece or if this was really just a friendly outing, but either way I'd accepted the invitation. He'd picked a little café just before closing. Slightly odd choice, but maybe he just wanted the quiet.

I was starting to grow accustomed to the silence between us. We just sat with our meals for a while, trying to covertly observe the other. "How've you been?" He finally asked after we'd gotten through most of the meal in silence.

"Okay I guess…I'm trying." He nodded thoughtfully at my answer and continued to study me. How did he keep so calm? "What about you?"

"Good." He thought for a moment, "I'm still getting better every day. Each one brings new hope I suppose." Truthfully he'd known he hadn't finished the sentence. Each day brought promise, yes, but it also brought fear. He was trying to be strong, not only for himself, but also for his new found friend even though he too remained uncertain of the future.

When they first met, he'd seen a bit of himself in her and from then on wanted to look out for her if she'd let him. That's what he'd told himself anyway. In reality, she helped keep him stable, though they both were probably unstable on their own. Somehow being able to help also helped him.

"What's your secret?" She questioned so suddenly, he had to search her face to find the meaning of her question.

"What-" His heart picked up. Did she know? "I'm not sure what you're asking."

"How do you stay so calm?" She continued with her unwavering stare, much like that of the first night only the fear had been replaced with curiosity.

A nervous chuckle followed by a sigh escaped him as he quickly arranged his thoughts, "Years of practice."

My brows furrowed. So we were playing this game now? "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Excuse me; we're going to be closing in about five minutes." An employee walked by, making sure to make eye contact with both of us as he went.

Standing up, he smiled nervously almost, "Well once again, I enjoyed the company…" He began before I interrupted by standing abruptly.

"You never answered my question." I protested. He couldn't leave yet.

He shrugged, "I suppose the same way most would."

"Speaking in riddles won't last for long, Bruce Banner." I used his last name for emphasis. "I'll learn the truth about you sometime." I joked half heartedly.

A quirky smile reached his lips, "I could say the same for you."

Somehow, the thought of having someone finally know the truth comforted me, but at the same time managed to scare me to death. Would someone really want to be my friend if they knew just how messed up I was? Maybe.


	4. Chapter 4

The next few times we'd spoken or met up were focused on light hearted conversation and bonding. After the second meeting we'd had, we managed to silently agree to back off of serious topics for a while and just enjoy having someone there. Whether he had come to that conclusion because he really wanted to keep things to himself, or because he wanted to give me space, I didn't know. I assumed it was a bit of both as it was for me. Either way, the last few weeks had been nice.

We were going to meet up in what seemed to be our usual spot now, the café. It was always close to closing when we arrived, but I sort of liked the seclusion. "Bruce, how've you-" There was something wrong. I could see it in his face. My heart began to beat a bit harder and I took a breath to steady myself, "What's wrong?" I didn't know what to do. He was always so collected. Seeing him this way was unnerving.

He sat quietly, staring at the food, but not moving to touch it. Slowly he brought his eyes up from the plate, his jaw was clenched tightly and I could see that he was struggling with something. Eyes riddled with pain met with mine in an intense stare. I almost flinched, but instead I broke our gaze and looked just to the side for a moment to compose myself.

After a long pause, he heaved a heavy sigh as if he'd stopped breathing for a bit, "What exactly do you know about me?" He was watching me as if something very important hinged on my answer.

"I don't understand, where is this coming from?" I could see him still trying to subdue whatever had been bothering him, but he'd calmed down enough to speak.

"Please…just answer the question." His breathing was slightly uneven as he wrung his hands nervously.

Thinking for a moment, I began to piece together an answer, "Well I know that you're a scientist." I started with the most basic things I could think of, "And I know that you've been running from something for a long time." His jaw clenched again in confirmation. "But I also know that you've been an amazing friend and that's all that matters to me." He stilled and contemplated what I was saying.

"You don't know-"

"If you're going to say something bad about yourself, then I don't care." I cut him off, "All I know is that somehow we work together. I know that seeing you in pain right now hurts me too… And I know that we don't really know a whole lot about each other, but just as you offered to me, I'll be here to listen if you need to talk."

He watched me for a moment, "What if I scare you away?" He choked out.

"I don't think you could." I stated simply, meeting his gaze evenly, silently daring for him to try.

He sighed, breaking the contact and then smiling as he regained his composure. Her words had reinforced the new image he was trying to paint of himself in his head. He didn't have to be a monster. Still, there remained doubt, but for now he could relax.

"Ah, I'm sorry for that." He gave me a sheepish grin.

"What happened?" The question had been burning my tongue since I saw his face.

Pausing to think, he began to pick up the toasted sandwich that was most likely cold by now. "A bad dream I guess you could say." He stared at the sandwich and continued, "I didn't mean for you to see me like that. We'd made plans before things went downhill at the last minute and I didn't think of canceling."

I gave him a reassuring smile, "It's okay." Carefully wording my next statement seemed harder, "I'm actually sort of glad I saw that side of you." Not as graceful as I had hoped it would come out.

He raised an eyebrow in question as he chewed his food, not able to speak just yet.

"Well, it helped me in a way…knowing that even someone who seemed so composed could have a moment like that and then recover..." I shrugged. "I'm really not alone I guess." Then smiling to myself I added, "And neither are you. You have those that have helped you so far and now you have me."

"Is that so?" He challenged, an oddly teasing tone to his voice.

I nodded, not sure what he was playing at, "Yeah."

"Well I sure hope..." He stopped and watched as someone approached the table.

"Rachel?" Oh no. No, it wasn't him.

"_Why haven't you been answering my calls?" My ex had pushed his way into my apartment as if he owned the place._

"_I blocked you." I spat, "I thought you would've understood that after I told you not to call anymore and then you started going straight to voicemail."_

"_I just want to talk." He started, "Look, I know I may not have handled things well, but you have to admit, a lot of what happened was your fault too."_

_Was he serious? "Get out." He only came closer._

"_Just listen to me." He grabbed my arm to stop me from backing away and didn't let go. There was something seriously wrong with him and I didn't like where this was going. For a moment I was too shocked to move, but in a heartbeat I was trying to pull my arm free._

"_Get off of me before I call the cops." I stomped down on his ankle and tried to shove him away with my free hand._

"_Damn it Rachel, just let me talk."He caught my other arm in a vice grip and shook me._

_That was the final straw. I wasn't his punching bag and I wasn't going to take his bullshit anymore. Slamming my foot down on his ankle again, I brought my other leg up to knee him in the gut. His grip loosened for a moment of which I took full advantage of and slipped away into the kitchen._

"_Touch me again and one of us isn't making it out of here." I hissed, grabbing a steak knife from the drawer as soon as he came around the corner._

"_Alright…okay…I'll go." He backed out slowly, me following until we reached the door._

_I was just about to close the door when he turned around quickly and began to speak, "Look, all I want is-"_

_The door slammed in his face and I locked it hastily. What part of stay away didn't he understand? I was trying so hard to get my thoughts in order and he comes and shows up. Shaken and suddenly very vulnerable, I made my way into my room and collapsed onto the floor as soon as I'd made sure to lock that door as well._

_No, I wasn't going to cry. He couldn't still have that kind of control. I'd shed my last tear a while ago…And yet, here I was, shaking and trying with everything I had left not to curl up and cry like a baby. For a while I stayed there, silently sobbing. I couldn't even cry to myself without feeling ashamed._

_What should I do? What if he came back? He just didn't seem to get it. I glanced over at the knife that now lay on the floor. Did I really have the guts to use it? No. Even while feeling threatened in my own home, I knew I wouldn't have actually used the blade._

_My heart was beating so fast, I could practically feel it hitting my ribs. I felt sick. Why couldn't I just forget it? Without thinking, I reached for my pocket. Why did I need my phone?...Bruce. Before I had time to put my phone back, I had already selected his number and could hear it ringing. I just needed to talk to someone. Would he think I was crazy? After all, I'd only met him a few days ago…_

"_Hello?" He'd picked up by the third ring._

My eyes widened and I stood up quickly, almost knocking the chair back. "Did you really follow me here?" My voice was strained, but came out a lot stronger than I thought it would.

Glancing briefly over my shoulder and sizing the both of us up, he grabbed my arm and pulled me over to the side as if trying not to make a scene. "It'd be such a waste to throw away almost three years of-"

"I told you never to touch me!" I stressed the sentence, but it didn't become much louder than an agitated whisper as I tried not to draw too much attention in public.

"Why won't you just listen to me?" He reached to pull me closer, but I slapped his hand away. I would not allow him to control me anymore. That last encounter we had would be the last time I'd ever be brought so low by another person for as long as I lived.

"I think you should leave." Bruce joined us in standing, his gaze focused on my ex. He had a strange look in his eyes that I hadn't seen before. Anger? No, more like a warning.

"This is none of your business." My ex snorted dismissively before turning his attention back to me. "Who's this?"

"None of _your_ business." I corrected. Turning to leave, I gathered my jacket and began to head out when I heard a commotion.

Spinning around to face my ex, I could see that he'd started to reach for me again when Bruce intercepted by stepping between us and catching him by the shoulder. Clenching his jaw once more a strange smile tugged at the corners of Bruce's lips, the warning still evident on his face. "I don't know who you think you are, but if you think that you can-"

Before things could get worse, an employee stepped in to diffuse the tension that was thickening the air, "Is everything okay in here?"

"I was just leaving." I managed a fake smile that resembled more of a grimace and made my exit.

I could hear the door to the café open just a few moments after I'd left, but I didn't turn back. I didn't care who it was, I couldn't face either of them. Never had I been so humiliated, not even when I used to let my ex yell and demean me for reasons I couldn't make sense of now.

"Rachel, are you okay?" It was Bruce, following a ways back.

I didn't answer. Keeping my head down, I quickened my pace and wished I could just run away and find peace somewhere. Everything had been going so well with this new friendship and in only a matter of seconds it'd come crashing down. Gradually, the other set of footsteps slowed and then stopped and I was alone in my walk.

* * *

**AN: I hope this flows like I'd hoped. I've been toying with it for a while, but I just can't seem to make it fit comfortably. Anyway, if you've made it this far, I hope you've enjoyed it and I'm sorry if it's a bit slow to start. I make things up as I go. Some of it based off of experience, but most dreamed up while not sleeping. This one will be going up at an odd hour (almost 3:30am for me) otherwise I won't sleep. I can't stop messing with it, but I don't know what it is I'm missing. If something doesn't sound right and you have the time, please let me know. (sorry for the mess, I'm tired.) Also, I've been debating on finding a beta reader, if anyone is interested, please let me know. I'm still not sure about it myself though.**


	5. Chapter 5

I couldn't sleep that night. Instead it was spent trying to smooth out the jagged edges of my emotions not to mention the paranoia. What if my ex came back again? I wanted to tell myself that he wouldn't, although who knew after what had happened tonight?

My phone buzzed only once with a text from Bruce, but I ignored it. Even if it were only pixels on a screen, I couldn't bring myself to think about anything from that night. How was it that he'd remained so calm anyway? Deep breathing maybe?

Forcing myself to lengthen each breath, I closed my eyes and tried to calm my nerves. A mix of good and bad memories flooded my thoughts, seemingly trying to overpower the other. In the end, the cliché remained true and the happier memories took precedence. Glancing over at my alarm, I figured it was almost time for me to get up anyway, so I busied myself with getting ready for the day.

As usual, I made my way to the coffee shop down the street. "Good morning!" The always chipper cashier greeted me. "Your friend left you a gift today."

Furrowing my brow slightly, I did a double-take, "…I'm sorry, what?"

"The one you almost spilled your drink on a while back." She elaborated, "He came in earlier and paid for your drink ahead of time. So today, no charge for you." How did she find the energy to be so awake at all times? Maybe she'd been breathing in too many fumes from the coffee.

Now I could feel the guilt weighing in on my conscience. Still not ready to talk, I sent a text to Bruce and apologized for the previous night and thanked him for the drink. It was stupid of me to run away like I did, but I hadn't been thinking clearly. If it were that easy, I would have run away a long time ago. I would stop by during my lunch break; it was time to face my problems head on…little by little anyway.

The Stark building was much more intimidating up close, but it could've been that I was just nervous. I stood out like a sore thumb, being hopelessly lost and whatnot. It didn't matter as far as I was concerned; I had to see if Bruce was there.

Although the entrance was on the street the only people coming and going seemed to be engineers and lab technicians. The lobby was spacious and well lit with the entire front being glass, allowing the natural light to reflect off of the highly polished floor. On the far end, there was a tall desk centered between two elevators where the receptionist sat.

Her sandy hair was pulled back into a tight bun to reveal her high cheekbones and lightly tinted eyes. She was quite pretty, but her sour facial expression ruined everything. Her cool gaze was uncomfortable, but I'd come here with a purpose and approached desk.

"Are you looking for someone?" She glanced down at the bag of Chinese food I'd just barely leaned against the desk, but said nothing about it.

"Yes. Is doctor Banner in?" It almost felt odd calling him a doctor simply because I usually used his first name, but that's what he was after all.

"I believe so, I'll let him know he has a guest. What is your name?" Giving my outfit a quick onceover, she waited for my reply.

"Rachel." I answered simply. She looked as if she were expecting a last name, but I ignored her questioning gaze. That was all she needed to know, he'd know who I was.

I watched as one of the lab technicians crossed the room returning from her lunch break. She punched in a few numbers and placed her thumb on the pad just to the side of the keys before the elevator was called. I'm sure the security got heavier as you went up, but that was understandable.

Five minutes or so had gone by before a familiar face finally made its way over to me. He looked surprised to see me standing there with a sheepish smile and take out apology, but returned the smile. We went up a few floors of the building and made ourselves comfortable in a break room before either of us spoke.

"You look tired." Wow. Sure know how to make a girl feel special, don't you Bruce? "Did you sleep?"

"Not really." I focused on unpacking the food, just wanting another moment to myself before any sort of conversation started up.

Sensing my discomfort, he joined in and began to pour food onto his plate. We started to eat while the food was still warm, but I knew I'd have to say something eventually. Well it wasn't so much that I had to, but I wanted to.

"I'm sorry for what happened last night." I sighed, "I shouldn't have run out like that."

"No, it was…interesting." Then smiling slightly he added, "Charming guy really."

Shooting him a rather pointed look, I ignored the joke, "I'm sure he had nothing good to say after I was gone?"

He shrugged, "He had a few rather colorful words for the both of us, but otherwise nothing important." I could see the questions swimming in his eyes as he paused to think of how to word it.

"He's my ex." I beat him to it. It was going to come up at some point anyway. "It didn't end well and he seems to think we should try again." I cringed inwardly at the thought.

Nodding as he took everything in, he waited for me to look back at him, "He seemed a bit aggressive, to put it nicely…has he been bothering you besides what happened last night?" I stiffened, remaining quiet, but that was all the answer he needed.

"Was last night the first night he tried to put his hands on you?" He searched her eyes for the answer, hoping that he was wrong.

I couldn't answer out loud. Giving the memory a voice made it too real for me. Instead I simply shook my head and picked at the rest of my food, focusing intently on my meal now.

"Have you told anyone?" He waited, watching as I picked at my food, "Did you call anyone?"

"You." I mumbled. "I really don't want the police or anything involved."

He thought, "That time a while back?" He remembered the call, but had never asked what happened. He just assumed that if she wanted to, she'd tell him when she was ready. Sighing as he removed his glasses, he pinched the bridge of his nose, "Well at the very least, will you look into a restraining order?"

I nodded, knowing he was right. What was his secret? Before I'd looked up he managed to compose himself once more. I wish I had that kind of control.

"Good." He smiled, "Try to get some sleep tonight too, will you? You look like you'd like to pass out onto your plate." Trying to lighten the mood and make me feel special? Great job.

"Funny. Maybe you should have gone into comedy." I muttered dryly.

"Do you really want to see that?" He raised an eyebrow, "Although Tony seems to manage…" He added thoughtfully, still teasing.

"What's it like working with him? I've heard so many things. Is he really so…complicated?" I couldn't think of a better word.

"That's a nice way of putting it." Chuckling slightly at the thought, he continued. "At first, when I met him, I wasn't sure what kind of guy he was. He's a little off if you ask me, but brilliant. He has his quirks, but we all do." Then seriously, he added, "He's a really great guy, in an odd sort of way… He was actually the only one that never doubted me."

Before I could ask what he meant, he was staring off into the past. I could only wonder what he was looking at. Maybe he'd tell me later, but I guess I didn't have time for a story anyway. Still happy that my actions the previous night hadn't ruined our friendship, I just wanted to enjoy the company for the rest of my break.

* * *

**AN: I just wanted to say thank you if you've made it this far. I also wanted to say that I've found someone to beta, thank you Speakfire.**


	6. Chapter 6

_ Staggering as I almost doubled over, I pressed my hand against the wall to steady myself. "Get out of here." I gasped, trying to breathe._

_ "Bruce, are you sick?" She took a step closer, "You look a little green and you're burning up."_

_ No, don't come closer. "Leave!" My voice was loud and strange. I shoved her away. If I had to offend her to get her to go, I would._

_ Her look of hurt turned to one of shock and fear as my form grew. I couldn't stop my heart from racing, my blood flowing so fast I felt faint, but I knew I was far from it. Slamming my fist into the wall, it crumbled and left an oversized hole—my last conscious effort to scare her off before—_

Drawing in a huge breath and sitting up abruptly, Bruce wiped the sweat from his brow. It was just a dream. Gulping down air as if he hadn't breathed in years he took in his surroundings, trying to ease his mind. He had to know it wasn't real.

Grabbing his phone from the nightstand, he began to search for Rachel's number, but stopped when he noticed the time. It was too early for him to call. Still trying to gain control of his breathing, he ran his fingers through his hair and pinched the bridge of his nose.

He knew it had to have been a bad dream, but there was still fear in his mind. The only way he could feel better is if he saw for himself. Choosing not to wake her, he sent her a text asking if they could meet at the coffee shop before the day began. Until then, he'd have to wait. This would be one of the longest nights he'd had for a while.

The sun was finally starting to show by the time he made his way to the coffee shop. Rachel wasn't there yet, but did reply earlier when she woke up he assumed. "Are you waiting for Rachel?" The cashier leaned against the counter to be better seen. The shop had just opened so it was just the two of them.

"Ah…yeah." He looked up from the table he'd been seated at.

Smiling, she retreated behind the counter and began to get ready for the morning rush, "She seems…different…somehow happier since she's met you."

Caught off guard by the sudden statement, he only watched as she carried on in her cheerful way. "She's been coming here for a long time and every time she smiles back, I don't think she's all the way there." She began to stock the baked goods in the display, "I'm waiting for the day when her smile is genuine. Everyone deserves happiness, especially her from the little I do know about her."

Nodding and looking back down at his drink, he tried to steady his nerves. It would be great if he could be the one to bring that smile, but she didn't know the other side of him. The Other Guy.

He'd been lost in thought until someone sat down across from him. Rachel greeted him with a tired smile. He'd been up for so long that he'd almost forgotten it was still early morning. "Hope my text didn't wake you up?" He was relieved to see her. He knew it was a dream, but he just couldn't shake the feeling of dread.

She shook her head, "No. I slept right through that. I didn't read it until I woke up." She took a sip of her drink to try and wake herself up, "Is everything okay? Why were you up so early?"

Thinking back, the dream was suddenly a lot less frightening. Still, fear remained. It never left. He was always afraid to hurt the ones around him, but he pushed the thought away. "Just another bad dream." He tried to dismiss the thought with a shrug, but the dread lingered with him.

"What was it about?" She watched him, now a bit more awake.

Sighing heavily, he let his shoulders fall as the weight on his mind seeped through to the physical world. "I hurt you…in my dream..."

"Why would you even think that? I don't think you could. You've been nothing but kind to me." She didn't understand.

He couldn't bring himself to elaborate. How could he ever explain that he turned into a rage filled green monster? Even the thought of it brought pain. Instead, he remained quiet. Maybe this was a bad idea. How could he ever lead a normal life? He couldn't.

It was too late to go back now. Even if he could, he wasn't sure if he would have changed anything. He liked having Rachel as a friend. Her company brought comfort In a way the Avengers couldn't. To be accepted by someone completely human, someone who didn't have a suit or who wasn't part of some organization…that would mean the world to him. For so long, all he craved was humanity and to be so close was more than he could have ever hoped for before.

She didn't know though. She didn't know about what he could become…how terrifying he could be. Maybe she could look past that and still see him. It was a slim chance, but one that he held onto.

"Bruce." He was snapped back, "Bruce, look at me."

He raised an eyebrow in response, still having nothing to say.

"I know you may not agree with me, but nothing you could say or do would hurt me." She cut him off before he could protest, "Because I don't think you would ever do anything to hurt me on purpose."

She was right; he would never _try_ to hurt her. However, what he did while he was the Hulk was not always a conscious decision. He could only hope that if she ever did see what he could be, he wouldn't hurt her.

He could see the honesty in her eyes; she really didn't believe that he would hurt her. Smiling slightly at the thought, he nodded. Somehow in the short time that they'd known each other, she had been able to make him feel almost human again. It was a strange idea by now, but he embraced the feeling and hoped it would never end. Losing the friendship that had formed, he thought, just might crush him. Undoing what had taken so long to put back together.

"Thank you." That was all he could think to say. She'd given him more then he could've asked for without even knowing. However this friendship turned out, good or bad, he would always be grateful for it. Even if she left in the end, he had still been given something he'd desperately longed for. For however long or short of a time this lasted, he would cherish every moment.

* * *

**AN: I wanted to write something from Bruce's point of view, so here it is. Thank you again for reading.**


	7. Chapter 7

"Rachel!" My coworker rushed up to me, shoving a bouquet of flowers into my arms. "Who's the special guy?" She gushed, bouncing on her heels as she admired the brightly colored assortment of flowers.

Confused, I searched for the card. "I don't know." My coworker looked just as puzzled by my response. Bruce was always kind to me, but this seemed too far out of character for him. There would be no reason for him to send flowers.

"_Enjoy your evening. –Love always, James" _It was as if someone had just pumped ice water into my veins. The unexpected flowers now seemed to have a threatening air to them as I read the card over again. Why would my ex be sending me flowers? I'd just filed a temporary restraining order against him the other day.

"No wonder you've looked so happy lately." Apparently my coworker had forgotten what personal space was while she was reading over my shoulder, but I didn't care. "I didn't know you two had gotten back together."

"…We didn't." I said flatly, tossing the flowers into the nearest trash can.

"Well he clearly wants you back." She wrinkled her nose with distaste. "He does know that you can't just buy someone back with flowers, right?"

"Right." I scoffed at the idea, gathering my things to leave for the night.

What if he showed up at my apartment again? I had to go. Work was safe, but home wouldn't be if he came by. Maybe I could stay in a small hotel or something until the court date where the order would be finalized. Once again, my hand reached for my phone before I knew what it was doing. I needed someone to help me think clearly.

"Uh…Hello?" Bruce sounded as if he'd been sleeping. I felt a twinge of guilt for waking him, I knew he'd been up very early, but I needed something to keep me from going insane.

"Bruce, do you think you could help me grab some stuff from my apartment?" My words almost ran together, but I think it was somewhat coherent. I could hear my own heart beat as I rushed out of the building as quickly as possible.

"Hmm?" I heard him move to sit up, "Yeah." He sounded like he was struggling to wake up, "Why are we moving stuff?"

"I'll explain later, okay? I just want to grab some stuff from my apartment and go somewhere." I wouldn't have too much to gather really. I just wanted to see him. Simply being in his presence was calming for me which I desperately needed right now.

Alarmed by the urgent tone in my voice, he agreed, "Okay. What's your address?" His footsteps were uneven as he groggily searched for a piece of paper and a pen.

Nothing seemed out of place as I entered the apartment, making sure to lock the door as I went. I just wanted to get in and pack as quickly as possible. Clothes, toothbrush, soap, my laptop…it shouldn't take too long to collect what I needed. Bruce would be here soon to help me gather my things and then I'd be out within the hour. Draping my jacket over a chair as I started to head back to my room, I saw something move out of the corner of my eye.

The light in the kitchen turned on and I froze like a deer caught in headlights. "Did you get the flowers?" He took a step closer and smiled, "They are still your favorite, aren't they?" He pulled a few folded pieces of paper from his back pocket and held them for me to see, "You're really going to get the courts involved?"

I wasn't going to play this game. Bolting for the door, I tried to undo the locks, but he caught me by the hair and shoved my head forward into the frame. I grit my teeth at the sound of my head thumping against the frame, feeling the pain radiate from the point of impact and spread as it intensified. Stunned, I was pulled away from the door and pushed into a chair at the kitchen table.

"What is this?" He slammed the papers down in front of me.

I was still too dazed to flinch, staring blankly at the papers; it felt like my brain had turned to mush for a moment. My silence seemed to anger him and he snatched the papers up from the table, bringing them closer to my face.

"Why won't you just answer me? All I wanted to do was talk." He laughed bitterly as if it were that simple, tossing the papers across the floor.

"How'd you get in here?" Finally finding my words, I watched him pace and tried to think of a way out. I wasn't going to try for the door again, at least not just yet. Maybe I could get my hands on another knife and bluff my way out like I had before.

"Spare key. You forgot to get it back." He grinned at how simple it was. The thought sickened me. He'd been able to come and go freely? How had I not asked to have the locks changed?

As he paced over towards the sink, I saw something that didn't belong. There was a bright red gallon of gasoline sitting on the counter. Was he planning to kill me? I had no time to think of a plan, I needed to get out now.

Reading the panic on my face, he stopped pacing next to my chair and kicked it over, kneeling down beside me as I tried to catch myself. "Who is that guy anyway, your new boyfriend?" He gripped my arms tightly and held me in place, "I saw the two of you chatting away. I saw the way you looked at him."

He'd gone off the deep end, his face distorted by an almost animalistic snarl. I couldn't let this happen. I had just started to enjoy life for the first time in a long time. No, I couldn't go without a fight. Kicking wildly, trying to wriggle my way out of his grip, I screamed and hoped someone would hear me.

"Shut up!" Before I could draw another breath to scream again he slammed my head against the floor and pulled me up just far enough to shake me. I was going to die here.

* * *

Why had Rachel sounded so worried earlier? Bruce was now fully awake and on his way to her apartment. He had no reason for a car, so he'd settled on getting a motorcycle when he'd come to work with Tony. Nothing too flashy, but also not the one he'd taken the first time he'd arrived when the city was under attack; it was just something simple to get around quickly. It'd taken him only a few minutes to get ready and out the door. She just sounded so scared. The only time she'd seemed that way was when her ex had showed up at the café. Had he showed up at her job?

The thought of the guy angered him, but he remained collected. He hated to think of what Rachel had gone through with that guy. Whatever happened had destroyed a part of her, he could tell, and she had only just started to put the pieces back together. Only once before the café incident had she mentioned the relationship and when she had, she was very vague about it.

Pushing the thought aside, he continued on his way. He hoped that she would be okay; he knew he might just lose it if something were to happen to her. No, nothing was wrong. He wouldn't allow the idea into his head. He was just going to help her grab her stuff and then when the restraining order went through, that chapter of her life would be over and there would be no need to worry. Using this idea to steady himself, he continued on.

As he grew closer, the feeling of dread returned as he saw a dark cloud of smoke rising into the sky. It was night, but the smoke could be made out easily, black against the glow of city lights. The smell of smoke was thick in the air and from a distance he could see flames and smoke billowing out of the top floor. It couldn't be the same building…but it was. The numbers matched the ones he'd scribbled onto the paper.

* * *

The front of my apartment was engulfed in flame. He didn't want to chance me getting out of this alive. He'd poured gasoline all across the front, paused at the door, looking back at me I assumed as I lay there playing possum, and left me for dead as he made his escape. After he had gone, I opened my eyes. It hurt to move, but I had to try.

My head was pounding and I thought my skull would crack under the pressure. I don't know how many times I'd hit my head, but when I reached back I could feel my hair matted to a wet spot on my scalp. It was hard to think, almost as if I'd just woke up from some sort of anesthesia.

Smoke was building up fast as the flame spread to the walls and furniture. Coughing to clear my airway, I pulled the collar of my shirt over my nose. Still sluggish, I reminded myself that I needed to act now.

Forcing myself up, I stumbled my way towards the back and away from the fire. My only hope was that the fire department would make it in time. Grabbing the sheets from my bed, I began to tuck them under the door to try and keep the smoke out. I was going to die before anyone got here, but at least they would know that I tried.

Not having the energy to keep going, I dragged myself away from the door and leaned against my bed, fighting to keep my eyes open. Choking on the air only worsened the headache that was progressively getting worse, but forced me to stay up. Calling once more on my will to live, I moved to the window, opening it and trying to breathe the fresh air. I heard a loud crash and the floor shook violently. Was the foundation crumbling or was the fire department smashing their way in? They were much quicker than I expected.

There was a deafening roar and more crashes could be heard as the floor continued to shake. Whatever it was, it wasn't the fire department and it was getting closer. Although most of my concentration had gone to staying awake, I felt like my heart had leapt into my throat, preventing me from screaming as the wall in front of me burst open to reveal what looked to be a giant green man?

Our eyes met and for a moment time stood still. I didn't know what to make of it. More fear mounted the growing mix of emotions, leaving me confused. It hurt too much to think. It hurt too much to move. I simply stared, eyes wide as the giant approached slowly, shaking the floor with each step. Was he trying not to scare me?

Slowly and carefully, he picked me up and pulled me close almost like one would cradle a doll. My life was in the hands of this green giant now as he made his own door through the back of the building, shielding me from the debris as we went, and landing on the ground effortlessly. Despite his attempts to be gentle, the landing still managed to shake me and send new waves of pain through my head.

If he were going to kill me, I'm sure he wouldn't have wasted the time to save me from the fire. From what I could hear, we were away from the commotion that had formed at the front of the building as neighboring residents and EMTs were just starting to gather. We observed each other in the pause.

Breathing was still difficult, as if my airway had begun to restrict the amount of air that could pass. It took a lot of effort to not panic. Crying would only make it harder. Looking up, I studied the giant as he debated on his next move. From what I could tell he seemed to look just as confused as I was with a strange mix of emotions on the large green face. His eyes…they seemed almost familiar, not in color, but I could see they were pained just under the surface. No, I was delusional. I must have hit my head harder than I thought.

A heavy metallic thud sounded just off to the side, breaking the quiet and bringing me back to the situation at hand. Stirring at the noise, ready to be on the move again, the giant regarded the red and gold metal man. "Easy big guy…" The plate over his face retracted to reveal Tony Stark eyeing the figure in the arms of the Hulk.

Clearly still deliberating over what to do, the Hulk watched as Iron Man approached to get a better look. "Your friend doesn't look too good." Tony observed this person that was clearly important to the doctor, not moving too close. Then carefully gesturing to the flashing lights and shouting that could be heard from the front of the building he continued, "They want to help her – let them help her…" He kept his voice low, trying to persuade the giant.

The Hulk could trust the metal man, right? He had trusted him before. Subconsciously, from the doctor's mind, he knew the man was telling the truth. Reluctantly lowering the barely conscious form to the ground, he glanced over towards the lights and wondered what would happen if he left.

"It's okay. They'll take care of her." Tony reassured, "But she needs help now, so you should go before they see you and I'll have them come over and get her." Looking down once more, the Hulk made his leave as the mask covered Tony's face and he flew in the opposite direction towards the lights.

I didn't move, too tired to do so. What had just happened? All I knew was that I was safe for now and that was all I needed to know. Unable to keep my eyes open, I slipped away into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

**AN: Thank you so much to Speakfire for helping me find a way to add Iron Man to the story and also make the chapter less awkward. I absolutely loved the idea. Once again, I hope you've enjoyed the story if you've gotten this far. Thank you for reading. Hope it wasn't too awkward. I couldn't think of how to write this one out.**


	8. Chapter 8

"Rachel…Rachel, we need you to wake up for us." My eyes were too heavy to open. Waiting for a moment, I was vaguely aware of a steady beeping in the background—how annoying. Trying again, I opened my eyes half way and tried to lift my head. "Easy, take your time." The voice was trying to be soothing, but the unfamiliarity made me want to try harder.

My vision was blurry at first, but I blinked to clear it. Slowly, the world came into focus and I found myself staring up at generic white ceiling tiles. Trying to sit up, I felt something tug from under the skin of my hand, making my skin crawl. Glancing down, I looked at the wad of tape connected to a tube. An IV? At the tip of my index finger, there was a large padded clip connected to a wire that ran over the edge of the bed.

"Do you know where you are?" I looked up to the nurse who was watching me carefully, ready to help if needed. He was watching closely, his gaze flickered to the monitor nearby and back.

The beeping sped up slightly and I watched the monitor for a moment too, taking everything in. "In…" My throat was so dry that it hurt to speak. The nurse offered me a cup of water which I took gratefully, finishing it in a matter of seconds. "Um…In a hospital." How had I gotten here?

"Very good." He smiled. "And the year?"

Why was he trying to baby me? Confused by the nature of the questions, I looked at him. He looked back, expecting me to answer. "What happened?"

"The year, please." He prompted.

"2012."

He nodded in approval. "Good, no distortion of time or place." He continued, "You were in a fire ma'am. We aren't sure how you got out, but at some point you sustained a mild concussion and some moderate abrasions and bruising." I looked out the window, trying to get a rough estimation of the time. It was still dark and the city hadn't begun to wake up yet. I'd say three or four in the morning.

"Are you feeling any pain or discomfort?"

Shifting to stretch my tense muscles, I stopped abruptly as my body protested and nodded. "Mhm." I tried to shift back to my original position, attempting to will the pain away.

"On a scale of one to ten?" How does one gauge pain exactly?

It wasn't excruciating, but definitely not something you felt every day. "I'd say…six."

He nodded, picked up a needle and small glass bottle from a tray, and crossed over to the IV, "I'll give you something for that. It should subside pretty quickly." He paused to administer the medication, "Any dizziness, nausea, or sensitivity to light?" Shaking my head in response, I watched quietly.

I waited for it to sink it. I knew what had happened to me, but it all seemed surreal. I could remember the events of the night just fine…the oversized mutated green man…the Hulk? And Iron Man had come by too. What were the odds? I should have been dead.

"Is there someone you would like for us to call? Any family?"

"No, can I just go back to sleep?" None of my family lived close by anyway. No point in calling them up and making a commotion.

He gave me a questioning look, but otherwise didn't say anything about it. "I'll be back in a few hours to check on you, you can sleep until then if you'd like. There is someone here to see you though, should I tell him to come back?"

"Who is it?"

"A Doctor Banner, I believe." He was hesitant, making sure he got the name correct.

"Can I see him?" I needed a familiar face. My apartment had been burned, my ex wanted me dead, and I didn't know what to do. Where do I start to pick up the pieces?

Nodding, the nurse left the room, soon replaced by Bruce. For the first time, I couldn't read the expression on his face as he came to sit in the chair next to my bed, setting down the bag he'd been carrying with him. Quietly he looked at me, his eyes trailing down to my arms. I looked down too, stopping at the two large bruises that wrapped around each arm where I had been grabbed by my ex.

Suddenly self-conscious, I moved to start a conversation. I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. Somehow I'd lost my words. He seemed to have misplaced his as well and we sat in silence. Removing his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose – something he seemed to do when he was stressed – he sighed heavily and looked away.

* * *

Anger didn't even begin to describe what I was feeling. Seeing those bruises were all the explanation I needed, I knew how they got there. Angry? No, I was livid. We remained in silence for a few minutes while I tried to compose myself and she tried to sort her thoughts.

"Bruce…" Her voice wavered, grabbing my attention immediately.

I looked up just in time to see a set of tears escape her eyes. She was trying so hard to put on a brave face, but I could see the overwhelming fear just under the surface. It seemed everything was finally catching up to her now and she was cracking under the pressure.

It hurt to see her in this much distress. I'd watched her grow, we both had in this friendship, and in one night it seemed like she might just break. I didn't want her to feel that kind of pain and fear, but I would be there for her. It didn't matter how long might take; I wasn't going to let her fall.

Standing and moving closer, my hand moved of its own accord, using my thumb to brush away one of the tears. I stopped there and so did she. Neither of us expected the gesture, but it seemed to pull her mind away from the fear for a moment. Still, I had nothing to say, but I didn't have to because a detective made her way into the room at that moment. Withdrawing my hand, I resumed my seat and waited to see what would happen.

* * *

"Sorry to interrupt. I need to ask a few questions." The detective began, moving closer.

I couldn't do this. How'd I end up in such a big mess? I didn't want to think about what happened. Starring down at my hands, I focused my attention away from the situation at hand. I just needed a moment.

"Detective…" Bruce paused to read the nametag, "Thompson, do you think you could wait for a day?" He continued before she could protest, "She's just now waking up and hasn't fully recovered from the concussion. Would you mind if she answered your questions after she's had time to rest?"

Sighing, supposedly sympathetically, she shook her head, "I'm sorry. We have reason to believe that this was a case of assault and arson." She looked at me, eyes stopping at the bruising on my arms before looking up. "I'll try to make this as quick as possible.

Time slowed down after she'd begun. Each question bringing discomfort, shame, and pain. I wanted nothing more than to just curl up under the covers and never come out. By the time she'd finished with the onslaught of questions, I was completely drained and clutching Bruce's hand for support.

After she'd gone, I stayed in place for another moment to try and gather myself the best I could. Using my free hand to cover my eyes for a moment, I breathed deeply. Now was not the time to break no matter how much I thought I just might. With another deep breath, I released Bruce's hand. "Thanks." I murmured. I'm sure I'd crushed his hand and he'd begun to lose the feeling in his fingers by now.

Nodding absentmindedly, he reached for the bag that he'd brought and handed it to me. "I'm assuming they're going to release you sometime tonight considering it's only a mild concussion. They'll probably want to get you in for a CT scan soon…" I peered into the bag as he went on, "Considering everything that happened, I brought you a pair of sweat pants and a shirt for when they let you go. I know they probably won't fit, but I figured it'd do for now until you can get a fresh set of clothes yourself."

"Thank – How'd you know what happened?" It hadn't occurred to me to ask until now.

He raised his eyebrows at my quizzical stare, "I'm the one that called the 911. When I got there, the fire had already started." It was true, a partial truth anyway. Now wasn't the time to go into detail though he knew it'd come up eventually,

"Was anyone else hurt?" I was suddenly aware that I may not have been the only one affected by the fire.

Unsure of what to say, he knew he couldn't answer the question honestly, he didn't know the answer. "I don't know." He admitted, "I left just after they took you away."

I nodded, somehow feeling guilty for the situation at hand. None of this would have happened if it weren't for me. Maybe it would have been better if I'd just never –

"Rachel, look at me." I focused on Bruce, considering he'd interrupted my thoughts, "This isn't your fault, okay?" He watched me intently, making sure I couldn't just shrug off the idea. I didn't answer, how was this not my fault? "You can't blame yourself for the actions of someone else."

"But if I-"

"No, you didn't start this. Don't you dare try and say that this was because of you." He didn't look away, "If anything, you did the right thing. That guy has an unhealthy obsession with you and his reaction was completely out of proportion, as much of an understatement as that is." I could see him tense up, not with anger towards me, but towards my ex.

"Bruce, I… Can we just talk?" I didn't want to think about it anymore. I didn't want to be stuck in this hospital anymore. I just wanted to get away from it all and the only outlet I had was conversation. That was all I needed.

He studied my face for another moment and then nodded, "Sure…Anything." Sensing my discomfort and exhaustion, he let it go for now.


	9. Chapter 9

"_You're not upset, are you?" James greeted me with a shy smile, extending a bouquet of flowers to me._

_ I stared at him evenly, not being able to find a smile to return. My chest still ached after the events of the previous night. How can a person belittle someone they claimed to love and then throw flowers at them like it would make everything better? Well it didn't._

_ "Well don't just stand there." He moved closer to press the flowers into my hands, but I didn't take them. Flowers and smiles didn't make me feel any better, they never did and I was tired of taking the half hearted apologies he tossed my way whenever he felt I might just leave._

_ "I don't want to do this anymore." I breathed, barely able to get the words out._

_ He set the flowers down and moved until he stood too close for comfort. "What do you mean?"_

_ "I…" I faltered for a moment, but didn't break eye contact. "I'm tired of this."_

_ "What else do you want? I said I was sorry!" He burst, the anger finally coming through._

_ "No, you didn't. And even if you did, we go through this too often." I sighed, taking a step back, "I just want some time to myself."_

_ He was quiet for a moment as the words finally registered with him. Suddenly reaching out, he grabbed my arm tightly and pulled me closer, "No, we're just fine. You can't go."_

_ Without thinking, my hand flew up and slapped him across the face. He let go and it was dead silent for a moment, neither of us moving. When his eyes finally focused on me, in the pit of my stomach I knew I had to run. If looks could kill, I'd be six feet under. I moved faster than he did, quickly making my way to my room and locking him out. I thought the door would break as I leaned against it, intending to wait this out._

"Rachel?" There was a knock at the door and for a moment, I thought I might just have a heart attack. "Are you okay?" I took in my surroundings. It took me a second to remember where I was.

"Uh…yeah." I moved to sit up, quickly wiping away the tears that had slipped by while I slept. After spending the day in the hospital, I was released that night. Considering that my apartment was now a crime scene, not to mention barely standing, Bruce had offered to let me stay in his apartment. It was a little ways away from Stark Tower, and he'd set up the futon in the study for me to stay the night.

"Can I come in?" He sounded hesitant. No, it more like concern.

Breathing deeply, I tried to push the bad dream out of my thoughts, "Yeah…"

* * *

I waited for an answer, allowing her time to gather herself, "Yeah…" She replied after a pause.

I couldn't sleep that night, so I settled on the couch and watched the news, making sure to keep the volume down. Fatigued, yes, but my mind was going a hundred miles an hour. Part of me wanted to go find Rachel's ex myself, but the logical side of me knew that crushing the guy wouldn't reverse what was already done.

From the other side, she sounded shaken. Slowly, I opened the door and entered. Pulling the chair from my desk up to the side of the futon and sitting down, I looked at her. She had to have had a nightmare. Her eyes were wide with fear and I could see her trying to push whatever it was out of her mind.

A fresh wave of anger burned me from the inside, but I didn't let it show. Right now I needed to be here for her. It hurt to see her like this; she looked so lost and scared. - Perhaps the worst part of it was that I knew I couldn't fix it. All I could do was be here for her. As far as piecing things back together, that was up to her. If I could help, I would, but this wasn't something that could have a bandage stuck on it. This went much deeper than a surface wound.

A muffled cry broke the silence as she tried to stifle it, abruptly moving to bury her face into my shoulder. Words were not needed, just company. Gently, I rubbed her back as the sobs racked her body as she tried to fight them back. Shifting to support us both, I continued to try and comfort her, encouraging her to let go of the fear and pain that had been building up.

He'd broken her, inside and out, but what hurt more than the anger was the sadness. Finally everything was coming out, all of the emotions she'd held inside since the fire. I watched as the cries subsided into sniffles after some time, then they too faded. Still, I held on, waiting for her to go back to sleep. It wasn't until a little while after she drifted off that I dared to move, shifting to place her fully on the futon again. It was very early in the morning by now, but I retreated to my room to rest knowing neither of us would be ready for the day until much later.

When it was finally time to get up, I made my way to the kitchen after getting ready for the day. Searching the pantry, I grabbed a box of pancake mix and moved to the refrigerator to get the carton of eggs. As I crouched down to go through one of the lower cabinets and get a pan, I accidentally knocked a few from the pile over, just barely catching them in time. This is why I didn't like cooking in the morning. Most of the time you were groggy and getting ready was loud.

Standing up and leaning against the counter, I studied the back of the pancake box. The instructions were simple, but somehow I doubted myself when it came to pancakes. Sure, having a doctorate was helpful in life and all and some of my work was still discussed among the greatest minds of our time, but pancakes were another matter entirely. Sighing, I searched for a decently sized mixing bowl as I thought of how to go about the pancakes.

Checking the box again, I prepared to cook. I knew how to cook. How could I not after living on my own for so long? I just couldn't get pancakes right for the life of me. Always, I cooked them just slightly under or turned my back and they crisped up in the blink of an eye.

"…Morning." Rachel yawned as she emerged from the study.

"Good Morning." I looked up from the box, contemplating whether I should ask if she knew how to cook these things. "You do like eggs and pancakes, right?" I'd just assumed since it was the standard breakfast food for most.

She smiled slightly, most likely sensing my apprehension about the pancakes, "Cereal is fine too, you don't have to go through all of the trouble."

Relieved, I set the box down, then double checked, "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure." She assured. "Do you mind if I freshen up?"

"Of course." I began to put away the pan, "The linen closet is across the hall from the bathroom. There's another set of sweatpants and a shirt in there as well."

"Thanks."

Rachel had just left when I heard a knock at the front door. Storing the eggs in the refrigerator as I crossed the room, I went to answer the door. Looking through the peephole, I recognized the eye staring back. Sighing and shaking my head, I opened the door. "Tony." I greeted.

"How's it going?" He invited himself in and I closed the door behind him, eyeing the shopping bag he carried.

I didn't have words to answer the question, instead shooting him a meaningful glance as we moved to the kitchen and I continued to set the table as Tony made himself at home in one of the chairs at the table. "Joining us for breakfast, I assume." I set the table for three.

"How dare you not invite me." He joked, feigning hurt.

"So, to what do I owe this pleasant surprise?" I mocked, playing along with his usual witty banter.

"Pepper and I thought-" I gave him a questioning glance, "Okay, well Pepper went out and picked up a set of clothes for your friend after I told her what'd happened." He set the shopping bag up on the table and pushed it towards me.

"I'll be sure to thank her next time I see her. I'm sure Rachel will appreciate having clothes that fit better." I took the bag and started to walk out of the kitchen.

"Hey, uh, does she know about-"

I shook my head before he could finish. It was only a matter of time before she would know, but it just wasn't time yet. With everything else going on, I didn't want to overwhelm her by burdening her with my secret.

"You know, she might be okay with it." He shrugged; I envied his lightheartedness at times. "I mean, the Hulk saved her and she seemed to be taking it pretty well all things considered."

"Yeah, that conversation should go over well." I continued down the hall.

"You never know, big guy." He called.

* * *

The clothes Pepper had picked up for me fit much better. I'd have to thank her if I got the chance. The sweatpants and shirts were comfortable, but I was used to women's clothing. Exiting the bathroom, I returned to the kitchen and took a seat across from Tony Stark, leaving the one between us for Bruce.

I didn't know where to begin. It was one thing to reflect on what happened, but to have Tony Stark sitting across from me was another. "So how are you feeling?" He was looking right at me, perfectly at home in his seat.

"I'm…" How do I even approach something like this? "Thank you." I blurted out, "I mean, for the other night. You helped save me."

"Actually, the Hulk saved you." He corrected, "I was just there to bring the EMTs over." He succumbed to his ego, "But you're welcome."

"I wish I could thank him too." I thought out loud.

"Okay, we've got two choices." Bruce joined us at the table and set down two boxes of cereal.

"I'm sure you'll get the chance." Tony smirked, grabbing a box and pouring himself a bowl. "He's a shy guy, but once you get to know him, he's a really interesting character. You know, other than his anger issues."

Bruce shot Tony pointed glance, but didn't comment. Instead, he ignored the remark and took the opportunity to rob Tony of the box of cereal. I couldn't help but smile at the way their short squabble progressed. Looking slightly offended and taken by surprise, Tony grabbed for the box again and topped off his bowl of cereal which Bruce then replaced with his empty one.

Smiling to myself, I grabbed the remaining box and started on my own bowl. "Well I sure hope so. He saved my life, the least I can do is thank him in person."

Letting Tony get to the milk first, Bruce looked up from their little game of breakfast table chess, "I'm sure he knows." He passed the milk over to me next, apparently a bit distracted as he fell into deep contemplation over something that seemed to be suddenly pressing on his mind.

We fell into an awkward silence; there was a tension between Bruce and Tony that I just couldn't figure out. It wasn't hostile, just a stalemate between the two over an unspoken issue. As we were finishing, Bruce heaved a sigh and looked up, "I need to talk to you."

Tony smiled triumphantly and stood up, clasping his hands together, "You two seem like you need some time. I'll just be going now." He excused himself quickly.

Quietly, Bruce followed to lock the door behind Tony. He was right, she had to know sometime and Bruce was tired of hiding from her. This was going to be a long day, but hopefully by the end, he and Rachel's friendship would remain intact.


	10. Chapter 10

"Are you okay?" I paused on my way to the sink with the dishes, taking a moment to observe Bruce's expression as he entered the kitchen again.

Barely looking up, he answered with an indiscernible mumble and collected the boxes of cereal from the table. Clearly something had gotten to him that morning. It almost reminded me of the time I'd met up with him at the coffee shop just a little while ago. Moving out of the way as he passed by with the milk, I remembered I had been in the middle of a task and set the dishes in the sink.

For a moment he remained still after shutting the door to the refrigerator. "Can I talk to you?" He breathed deeply, focusing on each breath as he crossed over to the next room and took a seat in front of the blank television.

I followed him and sat on the couch too, still trying to read him. "What's wrong?"

He closed his eyes for a moment to collect himself before looking at me, "Did I ever tell you about when I used to work as a binuclear researcher?" It wasn't a question he expected me to answer, he was simply using it to start the conversation, "When I was four, I was put into foster care, but before that my father used to work as a genetics researcher. He was trying to figure out a way to alter DNA so that a person would be able to heal quickly after being injured."

Pausing for a moment, he waited to see if I had been keeping up. I nodded, but didn't comment, waiting for him to continue with his story. Why this was suddenly coming out, I didn't know, but I wanted to be here for him just as he'd been for me.

"When he wasn't given permission to begin testing, he used himself…When I was born; he realized that those mutations had been passed on to me." He looked down as he continued, "They found out about his experiments and he tried to destroy everything." Still not looking up, he continued, "I lost them both. My mother died that day and my father was sent to a mental institution."

I wanted to comfort him, but something told me his story didn't end there. Of course it didn't. Why else would he start off by mentioning his old job? I placed my hand on his, silently urging him to continue.

After a moment he took my hand in his and drew another deep breath, still staring down and into the past, "I went on to get my doctorate in physics and began working for the government soon after. My team was experimenting, trying to find a way for cell regeneration and there was an accident…One day I'd been testing one of the machines and there was an explosion." His grip tightened, but not enough to hurt, "I should have died that day, being exposed to that much gamma radiation." He trailed off, lost in thought.

I was shocked for a moment, then my heart picked up. Radiation leads to cancer, was he trying to tell me he was going to die? "Are you alright? I mean, I guess you are because you're still alive, but are you okay?" I was rambling, drawing his attention away from the floor, "If you didn't die then, there must be some sort of long term effect…you're not dying of cancer or something are you?" I panicked. Everything that lives must die at some point, it was something everyone must accept, but I wasn't ready to lose him yet. Finally I'd found someone that grounded me back to earth and was a genuine friend who had been there for me. I wasn't ready to let go.

The ghost of a smile traced his lips as he watched me fret, but the pained expression in his eyes remained, "No, no. I'm not dying." He waited for me to calm down, steadying himself as well before he continued, "Well because of my already mutated genes, the radiation altered my DNA further and-" The words seemed to be lost for a moment.

He sighed heavily and used his free hand to comb through his hair, eyeing me as if uncertain whether he wanted to finish the sentence. For a moment, he seemed to shut out the rest of the world, looking past me as his internal debate progressed. When he returned to the present, he pinched the bridge of his nose and took one last deep breath before uttering the second part of his sentence. All of the pain that I'd glimpsed before was now front and center in his expression. How could he have managed to hide it so well all of this time? It all seemed to be coming out now, overwhelming his usually calm demeanor as his breathing quickened and uncertainty took over.

"And that's when the other guy came to be…The Hulk." He looked away, hiding the raw emotions from plain sight.

* * *

Other than a surprised gasp from beside me, it was completely silent for a moment. I could feel Rachel become absolutely still beside me as she took everything in, connecting the events of the fire and Tony's remarks during breakfast. Curious as I was to try and decipher what she was thinking, I couldn't bring myself to look at her. How could I look her in the eye when I'd deliberately kept something like this from her?

I released her hand, giving her the freedom to go, but she held on. Was it really that horrifying? Was she really too shocked to move? I'd been playing a terrible game by inviting someone into my life, constantly putting them at risk by simply being around them. Even the Avengers had been at risk for every moment I'd been around them. All I wanted was to feel human again, but even so, how could I have been so selfish? I was a monster and now she knew it too.

Still, she hadn't screamed. In fact, I wasn't sure what she was feeling. I still didn't check. We remained quiet as we sat, but it was nothing like the comfortable pauses we normally found ourselves in. It was odd as we each contemplated our next move. I needed to know what I had done. Slowly I looked up, but before I could catch a glimpse of her face she wrapped her arms around my shoulders and pulled me into a hug.

Surprised by the contact, I didn't move just yet. A hug was the last thing I'd expected. I'd expected fear or anger. I thought she'd want to scream or run as far away as possible. How could she stand to even be this close to me? Reluctantly, I pulled away and studied her face. "What are you doing?" My voice was barely audible, but I knew she understood the question.

She didn't look away, only tilting her head slightly as if she didn't understand, "What do you mean?"

How could she even ask that? "I just told you that I'm a monster and you hug me?" I questioned in disbelief.

"You're not a monster." Her jaw set in a determined expression as she continued, "Yes, I'm still surprised, but the Hulk saved me and so did you. Don't you remember how we met? How can you say, after everything, that you're a monster?" She stared at me, daring with her eyes for me to disagree, "As far as I'm concerned, you are the furthest thing from a monster." She paused, then added, "And you're my friend."

"Don't you get it? I'm dangerous. Just being here with me right now is dangerous." I argued. How did that not register with her?

"I don't think so." She said in a matter of fact tone, still challenging me with her gaze, "I've seen the videos of when the Avengers came and saved the city—the whole world." She cut me off before I could get a word in, "And I saw how the Hulk took out those aliens. I saw how he could tear through a building to get to his next target." Without pause she went on, "But I also saw how he caught Iron Man mid fall to save his life. I saw how he helped save the world. And you know what, I saw him up close when he saved me and carried me out of my burning apartment. I watched him make sure I was safe before leaving my side."

I didn't know what to say. Yes, those things were true, but she'd never seen me in a rage. She didn't know that if provoked, I could lose it and kill her in an instant. I wouldn't be able to deal with that. Even the thought of it hurt. I wouldn't know what to do with myself if that were to ever happen. How would I be able to live with myself? It's not like I had a choice.

"Bruce all I know is that when I'm with you, I feel the safest I've felt in years. I know that may not make sense to you, but it does to me. You're the only person who I've gotten close to, you've seen me at my worst and you still stood by me, and now it's my turn." She paused and her gaze faltered, "Please don't tell me that after everything we've been through already, you expect me to just forget it and go away."

No, I didn't want that. How could I push away the one person who could accept me Hulk or not? How could I want the one person who even after knowing what I could become, still sitting here next to me as if nothing had changed to go? She was the only person other than Thor or Tony – one being a demigod and the other having a suit – who even now, didn't tip-toe around me…She honestly didn't think that I would hurt her. I know she had said that in the coffee shop, but that was before she knew my secret. Still, she had that same look in her eyes.

For the first time in a long time, I felt like myself. I wasn't a walking hazard waiting to happen. I wasn't the focus of scientific speculation. I wasn't someone to manipulate. I wasn't a weapon to be used by someone else. I was just Bruce Banner. I was a friend, albeit with a unique condition, but still I was her friend. In her eyes, when she looked at me, she saw just that. And that to me was everything.


	11. Chapter 11

The rest of the day stood still after the conversation we'd had on the couch. For the longest time, we stayed there and simply enjoyed the others company as everything sunk in for the both of us. As far as we were concerned, nothing else mattered for the rest of the day and we stayed shut away from the world. I wish I could say that was the end of everything, but time waits for no one and the next day came all too quickly.

"Have you thought about what you want to do?" Bruce called from his desk in the study, briefly looking up, but still managing to continue typing.

Bringing up my legs onto the couch, I turned down the volume of the television and shifted so that I could just barely see him. "I have no idea where to start." I admitted. Never had I dreamed I'd get caught up in something so messy and end up needing a lawyer and court hearings to solve the issue. "I mean, I know I'll need a lawyer and all. I just don't know if I'm ready for this."

I could hear him sigh, pausing in his work, "Well ready or not, it's a bridge you'll have to cross soon." It wasn't condescending the way he said it, just a bit of dark humor to lighten the truth. He added a few final touches to what he was working on and stood up, coming over to stand in the doorway, "At least you won't be alone in this. Tony and I are willing to testify if need be."

"I never mentioned the Hulk when they asked me about the fire." I wasn't quite sure how I was going to explain the gaping holes in the walls.

A wry smile crossed his features, "Yeah, sorry about that. I don't really have a lot of control when the Other Guy is around."

"No reason to be sorry. You saved me. It's not like I'd have the apartment anyway with the fire and all." We didn't talk too much about the Hulk. Other than a few questions, we left the topic alone. It wasn't that I was scared to upset him; he just seemed so uncomfortable when he talked about it.

He didn't pause to think too much on the topic, but he tensed up a bit whenever the subject was mentioned, "Well I spoke to Tony about it this morning. Somehow he's going to put the damage to the walls on Iron Man going to save you, so if that story goes through, there will be no need to mention…well it'll be fine." Shifting as he removed his glasses, fiddling with them absentmindedly, he continued, "I guess I would only be able to mention the incident at the café, but I'm sure you have other material you could use."

I nodded and matched his uneasy smile, "That's a nice way to put it." I sighed and watched as he came to perch himself on the arm of the couch adjacent to me, "I can't believe it came to this."

"At least it will be over soon." As soon as they find him. We both knew that was the rest of the sentence, but neither of us brought it up. "Is there anything your lawyer should know before this all goes to court?"

I stopped to think, but only one thing came to mind, "He might try to paint me as the crazy one." It was something he used to do a lot before we broke up. He would twist my words and try to put all of our problems on me. As if I needed more to deal with.

"How exactly does he plan to do that?" Raising his eyebrows, he gave a short laugh at the irony.

It wasn't something I liked to think about, but how could I not? It'd become a part of me over the years. Sure it was nothing compared to the Hulk or a lot of other things that some had to deal with, but for me it was the start of my unraveling. "Well let's just say I've been running for a long time and I've just recently been putting things together." I couldn't leave it there; he deserved more of an explanation. Subconsciously bringing my legs closer, I continued, "For a long time I've been in and out of counseling. Sometimes I get so depressed I can't even get out of bed. It's like I can sleep for an entire day and still wake up tired. On other days it's like I'm weighed down by a ton of bricks and nothing seems worth it really."

He nodded and waited for me to continue. His expression was all I needed to know that he knew exactly what I meant. The feelings were hard to word, only truly understood by someone who'd been there. I breathed deeply and searched for my words again, "A while ago I got so bad that I started seeing things. At first I thought my mind was just playing tricks on me, but when it got worse… I mean, I knew they weren't there, but it happened so often that I just sort of got used to it. I never told my doctor about it though. I didn't want them to think I was crazy." I looked to him, pleading with him to understand, "I'm not."

Furrowing his eyebrows slightly, he watched me, "I don't think you are, but that's not something you should overlook." He stopped himself and sighed, not wanting to interrupt the story further.

"I haven't seen anything for a while." I assured, trying to get past the subject. "But he might try to use that against me. He would always seem to find a way to make things my fault." I shook my head, "He might try to pass me off as some sort of paranoid schizophrenic, but I'm not. I swear I'm not." He had to believe me. Just one person, that's all.

"I know you're not." He soothed, looking me in the eye. I could tell he meant it by the look on his face. He really didn't think I was insane, though I could practically see the questions forming in his mind.

It was hard enough admitting this to him and I hadn't even gone into much detail. How in the world was I supposed to stand there in front of a judge while another lawyer dug up everything that I'd tried so hard to bury and throws it in my face? It wasn't fair. I was the one with a paper trail of counseling while my insane ex was considered the sane one? "I don't want to do this." A whisper escaped me.

"You won't be alone." I watched him quietly from where I sat. This was the one person I'd come to trust, the one person who I could be myself around. He was exactly what I'd been looking for. He was someone who understood. We were both damaged in our own ways, but somehow in each other we found comfort. At one point, being close to another person and being able to bare our secrets to the other seemed like a terrifying and foreign idea to me. I'm glad I was wrong.

* * *

The next week or so passed by in a blur, punctuated by meetings with detectives and my lawyer. Bruce offered to let me stay until I could find a new place of my own. Truthfully, I was immensely grateful for his offer. I was absolutely terrified to be on my own with my ex still out there. Obviously he didn't respond to the court summoning and the restraining order was finalized in his absence, but the charges for arson and assault still remained.

I was finally able to start getting back into my normal schedule after a while, starting with my morning coffee stops. It was surprisingly refreshing to be greeted by the bubbly cashier. I had no idea how much I'd miss the little things, but I was glad to get out and away from everything else that was going on.

Sipping on my drink with a contented sigh, I exited the shop ready for work. My living arrangements had changed, yes, but that didn't change the things I had to take care of. The bruises were nearly gone and it was time to get back into the world.

"There you are, I've been looking all over for you!" No, I knew that voice. The false cheer couldn't hide the malice just under the surface.

I spun and came face to face with James. He'd cut and dyed his hair, even going so far as to start a beard, but it was him standing there in a suit as if he were off to work. For a moment, I thought my heart had stopped as I stared death in the eyes. He'd tried to kill me. He really tried to burn me up and here he was right in front of me.

Before I could try for help he discretely opened his jacket, pretending to adjust it on his shoulders. On his side, tucked away by his belt was a small handgun. "Scream and I'll kill you." He breathed and leaned in for a hug, still keeping up the charade.

All words were lost to me. He'd waited for me to be alone and in broad daylight he'd threatened my life under the façade of a friend. I stared at him for a moment, trying to read his expression. He was serious.

"We should catch up. Let's take a ride." Slinging his arm over my shoulder, he guided me to a nearby parked car. This wasn't his car. I'd never seen this car before, he'd either gotten a new one—or stolen one—I thought. With the stunts he's been pulling lately, I wouldn't put it past him. He opened the door and waited for me to climb in before leaning down, "Give me your phone." Taking in a shaky breath, I obliged and handed him my cell phone. He stayed by my side, "Both of them, Rachel. I'm not playing games with you." He growled, snatching my work cell phone away from me.

He crossed over to the driver's side quickly and we drove off. From the side view mirror I could see Stark tower along with the rest of the city grow smaller, wishing nothing more than to be there right now. I couldn't stop myself from shaking as I pressed myself into the door in an attempt to stay as far away from my ex as possible.

Glancing over at me, he smirked. "Relax love, I just want to talk." Did he think this was funny? "You know, I'm so glad you're here." He faced the road and began to scan through the radio stations, perfectly at ease. "I don't know what I was thinking that night. I completely lost it. You know how I can get when I'm angry." My heart pounded at the thought. The smoke and flames, the bruises, the fear of certain death, and here he was acting as if we'd only gotten into an argument. "I saw the news report the next day saying there were only some minor injuries. You have no idea how happy I was." He smiled as we started west on interstate 80.

I stared as we continued. None of this—kidnapping me at gunpoint that is— bothered him in the slightest. He'd completely snapped. "What do you want?" I finally managed to whisper, my voice cracking slightly as I thought about the gun again.

"I just want to talk." He shrugged.

We drove in silence for a long while. I was too afraid to speak, afraid to set him off. James on the other hand was completely comfortable as we went, using the radio to fill in for the lack of conversation. After we'd been driving for a couple of hours we stopped in the parking lot of an abandoned super store.

"Get out." He turned to me after parking close to the tree line.

"Please don't do this." I would give anything to go back a day as I sat here and tried to bargain for my life.

"Get out of the-" Stopping himself from exploding in a fit of anger, he paused and let himself regain his composure before starting again, "Just get out of the car." He forced the words through gritted teeth, gripping the arm rest between us tightly as he tried to control his temper.

Trembling violently, I got out of the car and waited to see what would happen. Was this it? Was I going to die in an empty parking lot? Quickly joining me, he grabbed my arm and led me to the back of the car, opening the trunk. Fighting back the tears burning my eyes, I hesitated. Was he serious?

"Get in. I want it to be a surprise where we're going." He teased, grinning back at my frightened face.

When I didn't move quickly enough, he grabbed me by the shoulders and pushed me into the trunk. For a moment, he paused to look down at me as I wished with everything in me that this was a nightmare. My heart pounded wildly in my chest as I fought to clear my mind, too panicked to think straight.

"Don't forget to breathe." He smiled one last time and closed the trunk.

* * *

"Rachel?" Bruce called as he entered his apartment, flipping the light switch next to the door. He waited for an answer to know that she was there, but none came. It was too dark for anyone to be there, she could have just gone to take a nap.

She hadn't replied to his request for them to have lunch that day. Maybe she'd just had a busy day and never checked. Still, that was strange for her. She should be checking regularly in case something new in the case came up. He made his way to the study, peering into the room through the open door to find it empty.

Now he was worried, but he couldn't let it get to him. Instead, he reasoned with himself. She probably stayed late at work. That was all, nothing to worry about. Deciding to pick up dinner, he left the apartment and walked down the street to the local pizza shop near Stark tower.

Since Rachel was most likely working late, he brought the pizza with him as he entered her work building and caught the receptionist just before he left for the day. It was apparent that this was a new employee since he had no idea who Bruce was talking about. Quietly Bruce waited as the receptionist started the computer again and waited for it to load.

"What department did you say…Rachel-" the employee paused, "What did you say her last name was?"

"Brooke. Rachel Brooke." He repeated, running his free hand through his hair.

The loud clicking of heels on tile stopped just to the side, "You're looking for Rachel?" She must have been one of Rachel's coworkers.

Glad to have someone who knew what he was talking about, Bruce regarded her with a small smile. "Yes." He nodded towards the pizza he was holding, "I thought I'd bring her something to eat."

Frowning slightly, Rachel's coworker brushed a few blond strands away from her face and shifted on her aching feet, "She didn't come in today. I thought she was sick and forgot to call in."

Nodding and starting for the door, he managed a quick thanks and left. He let himself into Stark tower, making his way to the top as he tried not to concentrate on the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"You have a guest, sir." The automated voice of Jarvis announced and lowered the volume of the music Tony had going in the background as Bruce stepped out of the elevator.

Looking up and through the holographic screens he'd been using, Tony stepped around the area he'd been working in and greeted Bruce with a smile. "Hey! What brings you here so late?" He came closer and helped himself to a slice of pizza, "You know, last time someone brought me pizza they tried to kill me." Taking a bite and continuing around the food as he chewed, he joked, "You're not going to crush me, are you?"

Completely ignoring the joke, Bruce tossed the pizza on a table to the side, "Tony, this is serious. I haven't heard from Rachel since I left this morning and no one has seen her today."

The concern coming from Bruce seemed to stop Tony's usual airy mood and he swallowed the food before replying, "Well that can't be good. Do you know where she normally goes in the morning?" He strode back to his work area, pizza still in hand.

"Just for coffee most of the time." Bruce shrugged, nothing else coming to mind as he thought, "I don't know what could have happened between there and work. It's not that far." How could she have gone missing in broad daylight?

"Not a whole lot to work with. What's her number?" Before Tony had finished his sentence, Bruce was in the elevator again.

"I'll be back." The doors closed and he was on his way out of the building. If anything had happened in or near the shop, maybe the cashier would know. Hopefully she was still there. It was a slim chance, but anything that could help was needed.

The door to the shop was locked as a lone figure stood in the middle of the dimmed store sweeping the floor. It was the brown haired cashier. A small amount of relief spread through him, but still couldn't wash away the worry that was consuming him. Knocking on the door, probably a bit louder than necessary, he waited for her to turn around.

Turning towards the door, a sad smile touched the young cashier's face as she walked to the door. "I had a feeling you'd be coming by. Caught me just before I left for the day." She let him in and resumed her spot in the middle of the store. "I saw Rachel earlier today."

It was as if she'd read his mind. More like his expression really. "Did you see where she went?" He reminded himself to take deep breaths as he waited for her to answer.

Nodding, she stopped and pointed in the opposite direction of Stark tower, "She got in a blue car with this guy. I don't know who he was, but he looked a lot like this guy I saw with her once a long time ago. I can't be sure, but I think he had lighter hair then." Her eyes hardened as she recalled the memory, "I didn't like him. They came in here and he ended up getting rather nasty with her because she didn't like the drink he'd gotten for himself. I remember because I was thinking how stupid of a thing it was for him to get upset over."

The mental image only tightened the knot that had formed in Bruce's stomach. Thanking her for staying so late, he headed out of the store, dialing Tony's number as he went. "Tony, I think her ex got to her."

"Well that's unsettling." He pointed out the obvious before going on, "Her cell is still on. I had Jarvis pull up their location, looks like they're still on the move."

"You—never mind." Bruce knew Tony hacked his phone to pull Rachel's number. Personal space other than in the physical sense wasn't a concept that Tony seemed to be familiar with; however in this case, his intrusion was welcomed.

"So road trip then?" Tony suggested, "If we leave now, we'll be able to catch up pretty easily." He had fast cars for a reason and it wasn't every day where you had an excuse to speed cross country with the top down.

Bruce sighed at Tony's enthusiasm, even in the most serious of situations he still seemed to be able to crack a smile. "I guess." He agreed, knowing the plan had already been set before he called.

"Great, I'll get the Captain in on this too. Never know what might happen with this nut job." Tony ended the call.

* * *

**AN: Thank you so much for reading, sorry it's been so long since I've updated. I had to go out of town for some family stuff, but I'm back. Also, another big thanks to Speakfire for everything, she's helped me out so much with ideas and stuff in general.**


	12. Chapter 12

**AN: I know I don't usually say anything at the beginning, so I'll be quick. This chapter is a bit darker than the others and mentions a bit of blood, so if you're not comfortable feel free to skip over.**

* * *

I'd been in that trunk for hours, spending most of it trying to concentrate on breathing the thick air. I'm not sure how far we'd gone, losing track quickly after having my view cut off. At first I tried to make guesses by the sounds that could be heard from outside, but from what I could tell, we'd gotten back on the highway and everything blended together after that. For a while, I thought I just might die back there, but eventually we came to a full stop and the engine was cut off.

When I was finally allowed out of the trunk, I found myself in the garage of a house I'd never seen before. My entire body was stiff and sore from being cramped in the trunk for so long and I was pretty sure I'd have quite a few bruises from the bumps in the road, each of which I was painfully made aware of.

"This place has been in the family for years now, but I'm the only one who really comes up here anymore… I made a few adjustments, just for you." He led me into the house and downstairs, barely giving me time to take in my new surroundings, "It's actually pretty nice here, the area. I figured it'd be good to get away from the city and all—just you and me." We moved to the back and he opened a door with locks on the outside, shoving me into a bathroom that was bare for the most part. "I'll be back in a bit, going to give you some time to adjust." The door slammed in my face and I could hear the sliding and click of the locks from the outside.

"Wait!" I pressed myself against the door, twisting the knob to no avail. He didn't answer and I could hear his footsteps fading. "Come back here!" Still, his pace didn't slow and I began to pound on the door to get his attention. He couldn't just leave me here. There were no windows. There was nothing. Nothing outside of the norm for a bathroom, minus the soap and towels anyway.

What I planned to do when he came back, I didn't know, but I know that I didn't want to be left here. Stamping in frustration, I continued to twist the knob and bang on the door. He was going to notice me. The door at the top of the stairs slammed—on purpose I'm sure—signaling that I was alone.

Tears burned my eyes, but I rubbed them away before they could escape. I took up pounding my fist on the door again, calling for help and hoping that someone was around to hear me. Above, James turned on a stereo and adjusted the volume to drown out my cries, only aggravating me further. A part of me thought he enjoyed this, my fear, while the other part knew he simply didn't want to hear me.

Letting out a scream, I turned towards the shower and yanked the shower curtain from its hooks, tearing most of it down while some of the cloth managed to remain hanging. Still unsatisfied, I slammed my fists into the walls and shouted obscenities directed towards James, each of which I'm sure weren't heard. Trying to catch my breath, I leaned into the wall and stared back at myself through the mirror over the sink. Somehow, the sight of my disheveled self only served to fuel my anger. I looked so weak, helpless, and lost… it was disgusting.

Enraged all over again, I kicked off one heel towards the door and watched as it bounced back with only a scuff left behind. Using the wall as support, I balanced myself and removed my other shoe, glancing back at the mirror. How did I end up in this mess? No one could hear me. No one could help me. There was no way out. Bitter tears made their way out, doing nothing to soothe me. In fact, they only reinforced the sense of helplessness that overwhelmed me. Another scream of frustration tore its way out of me as I sent the shoe flying forward, sending a spray of broken glass back.

For a moment, I remained still and the only sound in the room was that of my breathing. Quietly observing the glass on the floor, I allowed myself to sink down the side of the wall until I came to rest on the cold tile. This could be my way out, I thought as I reached out and gingerly picked up a shard, bringing it closer to observe the edges. Running my finger along the edge, I tested the sharpness as I thought. The glass sliced through easily enough, leaving a shallow cut along my fingertip.

Slowly I curled my fingers around the sharp edges, letting out a breath in a hiss at the sting, but continuing to add pressure. It could be so simple. I could get out of this and be gone before James came back. Breathing deeply, I watched the blood trickle around the glass and over my hand as I contemplated my next move. Letting up a bit, I opened my hand carefully and balanced the shard in my palm, using my fingers to fiddle with it as I continued to think. How else was I supposed to make it out of here? He was never going to leave me alone. Maybe it'd be easier if I just… yes, it _would_ be easier.

My mind began to wander for a moment as I adjusted my grip on the broken glass and brought it to my forearm, just barely breaking the surface before I stopped. What would Bruce think if he knew what I was doing? It hurt to think about him. I knew he wouldn't have hesitated to rip the shard away from me and snap me back to my senses, but he wasn't here. Trying to push the thought away, I pressed down and ignored my own mental protest as I dragged the glass across the skin, knowing I'd have to go much deeper for this to actually work.

I knew what I was doing was wrong, but I didn't care. Still, the mental of image of Bruce weighed in on my thoughts and I paused again. I couldn't just leave him like this. After all the time we'd spent together and after he'd shared one of his darkest secrets with me, how could I just up and leave? Shaking my head, I prepared to continue. It wouldn't matter if I were gone. Nothing would matter then. And yet my hand refused to move, shaking slightly, but not moving forward.

No, this was the only way. I had to get that through my head despite the clouds of doubt that had accumulated and fogged up any clear line of thought. My hand refused to budge and I couldn't bring myself to go on. Sobbing, I brought my knees up and wrapped them in a hug as I buried my face into my legs, still clutching onto the bloodied shard of glass.

Remaining that way for a while, chilled from the floor and aching from everything else, I thought as I listened to the movement coming from upstairs. Maybe it wasn't me that had to go… If I could catch James off guard, I could make a run for it. My head had begun to clear and thought became a bit more rational. Yes, that's what I'd do. I'd make a break for it when he came back.

What felt like hours dragged by before I finally heard footsteps coming closer. Finally, the locks outside of the door were undone and the door opened, "Calmed down now, have we?" James raised his eyebrow and observed the ripped shower curtain and broken mirror I'd left in a fit of rage and desperation. I moved as if to sit up, hiding the shard in my hand out of plain sight.

"What do you want?" My eyes fell on the gun now in plain sight, still tucked in by his belt, but now in the open with his jacket gone.

Looking down at me, he extended his hand to help me up from the floor, "I want you to see what I see. We're meant to be. If you'd just listen to me, I know you'd understand."

"You're disgusting." I spat, his hand recoiling as if I'd slapped it away. I had to get away. Jumping to my feet and tightening my grip on the piece of glass in my hand, I ignored the sting as it cut into my fingers and palm again. Slashing blindly, the makeshift blade grazed his cheek and left a thin trail of red behind.

Stumbling away and grasping the side of his face, he uttered a string of curses, barely fending off the next attack. Recovering quickly from the shock, he grabbed me by the wrist as the shard came down again and twisted my arm painfully, forcing me to face away as he pushed me into the wall. Not taking any chances, he grabbed my other arm and pulled it behind me as well, pinning me to the wall.

"Drop it." He was breathing heavily, all traces of humor gone now.

Clenching my teeth as he continued to twist my arm, I reluctantly allowed the glass to fall onto the unfinished floor. It shattered on impact, leaving me nothing else to defend myself with. Releasing my arms and grabbing my shoulders roughly, he spun me around to face him, slamming my back into the wall. My eyes followed his hand as it went to his side, pulling the gun from his belt and bringing it up to my head.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't blow your brains out?" He pressed the gun to my temple. I heard the click as he took the safety off, but didn't dare look away.

I had nothing to say. How exactly does one plead with insanity? Instead I focused on holding back the tears brimming my eyes. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing just how scared I really was.

He seemed to be struggling with himself for a moment, eyes boring into mine as he fought with himself. His breathing was ragged and he shifted so that the gun pointed up for a moment, its side still resting against my head. Wordlessly, he tightened his grip on my shoulder and moved the gun down the side of my face, stopping just below my cheekbone as he adjusted his grip.

Still holding my gaze, he licked his lips nervously, "You know-" He paused to adjust his grip again. I could feel my heart skip a beat as he did so. One slip and it would be over, "You're making this really hard for me, Rachel." He dug the gun into the side of my face, leaning against me until I felt like my shoulder would be crushed under the pressure between him and the wall. He drew a shaky breath and his attention flickered from my eyes to the gun and back. "I was trying to leave this up to you, but you just know how to get right under my skin sometimes. You just push me and push me until I snap. You know it drives me crazy when you do that."

I continued to watch him in his mental struggle, opening my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. How could I talk him down from this? The truth was I couldn't and that scared me out of my mind. The tears I had been holding back made their way down my face, silently admitting my defeat. Blinking as he came to, James paused for a minute and his eyes followed the tears streaking my face, bringing him out of his rage for a split second.

We remained that way for a moment, each staring into the other's eyes. Slowly, he moved the gun away from my head and a wicked smirk crossed his face, "Are you okay now?" He took a step back, teasing me with that stupid smile. Did he think this was all just one big game? I nodded slowly, biting back the insult trying to rip its way from me. He might just kill me next time.

"Good." He reached up and tucked my hair behind my ear. My skin crawled at the contact, but I held my tongue and resisted the urge to claw his eyes out. "Let's go get cleaned up, shall we?" He observed the blood running freely from my hand and opposing forearm, frowning slightly at the sight.

Quietly I followed him upstairs and into another bathroom where he fished out a first aid kit. After he'd cleaned the cut on his face, we moved to the kitchen table where he set the gun beside him, just out of my arms reach. He cleaned and wrapped my forearm first, muttering to himself inaudibly as he finished and then reached for my hand. Neither of us said anything as he took my hand and turned it palm side up to see what needed to be done.

I looked away as he began to work. The thought of it made me sick to my stomach. It wasn't the blood that bothered me, it was him. How could he threaten my life one minute and in the next act as if he cared as he patched up the wounds?

"How does that feel?" He finished wrapping my hand in a bandage, placing it gently in my lap as he looked up expectantly. Facing him again I simply nodded, at a loss for words. He smiled and packed the remaining supplies away, "Look, all I want is for you to see how perfect we can be." He began, watching for my reaction after he closed the first aid kit. "We can stay here, just you and me. It'll be like before, okay?"

"I – I don't want to stay here." My voice came out in a whisper as I stared back.

For a moment I could see his expression darken at my response, but he bounced back quickly and replaced the sour look with what I guess he thought to be a charming smile, "Just give it a chance." It wasn't a suggestion. He stood up and grabbed the gun from the table, still watching me, "Let's watch a movie."

If someone were to ask me what the movie was about, I wouldn't be able to tell them. The entire time, he'd kept the gun in hand and made comments about his favorite parts of the movie as if this were the norm. I couldn't help but wonder if I'd be walking out of here or be carried out in a body bag, but whichever one it was going to be, I was sure it would come soon.

The silence after the movie was unsettling, interrupted by the buzzing of a cell phone. It was his cell phone that had buzzed, but it seemed to remind him that he had two others in his possession. Retrieving my cell phone from his pocket, James began to go through the messages.

"Wow, you've got four missed calls from a Bruce along with another text and a voicemail." He sneered, "Did you know he asked if you wanted to join him for lunch earlier before he started calling?" Continuing on, he added, "I didn't bother replying to it at the time. I wanted to see how many times he'd call." His grip on the phone tightened as he finished, "He must really care about you to be so concerned."

How could I have known that without my phone? From what James had reported, I could tell Bruce was worried though. Had he gone looking for me? The thought offered momentary comfort that was soon extinguished as James interrupted my thoughts.

"So this Bruce is the guy from the café?" I didn't reply, knowing he wasn't waiting for an answer as he continued to read through my phone, "What is he to you anyway?"

"None of your business." I used the same line as before, eyeing him defiantly. I was tired of the games. If he was going to kill me, I wish he'd just get it over with.

"Damn it, Rachel. Why can't you just answer me?" He snapped, grabbing me by the back of my neck and digging his fingertips in. "Why do you have to be so difficult?" Shaking me slightly, he held on and waited for me to reply.

"He's my friend." I gasped as his grip tightened.

"Don't lie to me, who is he?" Squeezing my eyes shut, I allowed the tears to slip past as I tried to pry his hand off of me. "Are you sleeping with him? Why can't you just tell the truth for once?" He pushed me forward and onto the floor, standing over me as I went down.

Barely catching myself, I looked up as a fresh set of tears made their way down my face. I was absolutely terrified. "I'm telling you the truth." I choked out, pushing myself away from him.

"You know, I really did love you." He threw my phone down hard enough for me to hear it break, but I didn't dare to look away as he took a step closer, "Why couldn't you just love me back?" He actually managed to look sad at the last part, but it was quickly replaced with spite as he glanced down at me, holding my gaze.

Again, somehow he'd found a way to blame everything on me. How was I supposed to respond when he couldn't be reasoned with? I didn't have an answer. Shaking, I stayed in place as he bent down and grabbed me by the arms, hoisting me up and onto my feet in front of him.

"It's okay. It'll all be better as soon as we fix this." He smiled and kissed my cheek. "I still love you. And with time, you'll come to love me too."

"No, I won't." The words slipped past before I thought about it.

I could feel him tense, but the smile didn't falter, "You will."

We stared into the other's eyes, each determined in the battle of wills. He had me here, yes. I was terrified, yes, but I would never love him again. It didn't matter how much he threatened me or how much he wanted to pretend we were a couple again, it just wouldn't happen. In his face I could see past the madness, a small part of his former self was still there. There was what looked to be pain and longing, but it was dwarfed by the anger that engulfed what was left of him.

I caught myself almost pitying him, but the reality of my situation prevented me from feeling anything but resentment for him. His mind had been slipping for a long time, even before I'd met him. I knew what it was like to wake up and question your own sanity and so, I'd befriended him when I found him drowning his sorrows in alcohol. At first, everything seemed like a dream and we were happy. Then as the stress of life started to weigh in on him again, he began to change. I tried to tell myself that it would get better, but it only got worse. He became controlling and so full of rage that even the smallest of things set him off. His insecurities got the best of him and paranoia integrated itself into his personality, fueling his anger further until only his physical self resembled the person I had met. Inside however, he became an entirely different person.

"It's late. We should get some sleep." He interrupted the silence, looking past me at the clock that hung on the wall.

He kept the gun with him at all times, leading me up the stairs and into the master bedroom. Of course he didn't trust me not to make an attempt to escape, so he pushed me into the walk in closet which had also been outfitted with locks on the outside of the door. And so, that's where I spent my sleepless night. I was stuck in a windowless, bare closet with only a few blankets piled up in the corner for the night.

"Sweet dreams." He'd called. I could hear him curl up in the bed and the click of the lamp as the sliver of light coming through the bottom of the door disappeared.

Sighing, I took up a spot as far away from the door as possible, wrapping a blanket around myself as I waited for what the next day would bring. What if I wasn't found? Would I really have to stay here with James? No, I refused to stay here with him. I was going to make my escape or he was going to kill me, but I damn sure wasn't going to stay here and play house.

* * *

**AN: Thank you for reading, as always. I'd like to thank Speakfire again for lending me her brain to bouce ideas off of.**


	13. Chapter 13

"Rise and shine." The door to the closet opened and James grinned down at me. He'd changed into a loose set of clothes to sleep in and even now kept the gun with him almost as if it'd become an extension of his arm.

I was wide awake. In fact, I'd been awake the entire time. Actually, I was pretty sure it'd only been a couple of hours. "You're a real prick, you know that?" I glared back, not moving from my spot in the corner.

He advanced quickly and kneeled down so that he was at my level, too close for comfort, "And you're a real piece of work."

"How's your face?" I gave a smug look, the edges of my lips quirking slightly, trying to get him to back off a bit.

His eyes narrowed for a moment before he broke out in a smile to match mine, "I enjoy that spark of yours." He deflected the jab at his ego, "Are you hungry?" I jerked away when he reached to push my hair behind my ear again.

"Don't touch me. You make me sick." I shrunk as far into the wall as I could.

A bitter laugh filled the air, "You seem to have forgotten who's in charge here. I'll do what I want." He dragged me to my feet by my arm and leaned in close, "Do you understand?"

I wasn't some play thing to be tossed around and I refused to let him think so, "I hate you."

Any trace of amusement drained from his face immediately, leaving a scowl behind, "I'm getting really tired of that mouth of yours. It'd be wise of you to keep it shut from now on." Still close, he continued, "You know how I get sometimes. I'd be so sad if something were to happen to you."

* * *

Steve watched through the rearview mirror as the doctor in the back remained tense, just as he had through the entire ride. It'd been decided that it would be best for the already stressed individual to remain in the back and away from the screen that marked their destination. From what could be seen, it seemed like he'd been trying his best to tune out the world, but every now and then at the mention of Rachel he would shift uncomfortably or inhale sharply as he tried not to listen.

The trip had been relatively quick— considering the constant speeding on their part—with Tony being pumped up solely on adrenaline. For a while he'd been trying to make light conversation with the two, but seeing as the doctor had a lot on his mind and Steve had taken to observing how everything had changed so dramatically, the ride became uneasy for Tony close to the start.

"Hey, Doc." Tony adjusted the mirror so that he could see Bruce, taking his eyes off of the road and making Steve's stomach lurch just a bit as they continued to speed.

Drawing in a few more deep breaths before looking up, Bruce steadied himself and met Tony's gaze through the mirror. He raised his eyebrows in response, not ready to speak yet. It was obvious, even through the darkness, only broken by the passing of another car or street light, that the whole situation had taken its toll on the doctor.

"She'll be okay." Tony assured, adamant in his declaration as he turned his attention back to the road and allowed Steve to breathe a sigh of relief.

"You seem sure." Bruce drawled and then gestured to Steve in the passenger's seat, "Is that why he's coming too?"

Tony adjusted the volume of the music he'd been blaring as they went and they exchanged meaningful glances. It was true; he'd brought a new travel suit and invited Steve in case things got a little…green. The doctor had managed to avoid becoming too agitated, but it was obvious that his patience was wearing thin and there was no telling what had happened to his friend. They couldn't take the chance of the Hulk leveling another area, and so they'd come as prepared as they could on such short notice.

"No offence, Captain, but I'd rather not be watched like a bomb counting down." He added, returning to his original position with his eyes closed and hands placed on his knees as he focused once more on lengthening each breath, sitting up straight just above the back of his seat.

"I sure hope that breathing of yours helps. We should be coming up to the place in five minutes." Tony returned the music to its original volume and weighed down on the gas pedal, effectively making Steve's stomach lurch once more.

"So what's the plan?" Steve finally spoke up. He'd been avoiding the subject until now as to not stress Bruce further.

"Come on, Cap. You act like you don't know me by now." Tony gave a knowing smile as he tried to lighten the mood. With any luck, this moron would give up Rachel once he realized he was sorely outmatched even without the Hulk, but he wasn't holding his breath on that happening.

* * *

"This place isn't far from Niagara Falls. We should go sometime, that is after you get that attitude of yours in check." He smiled to himself, patting my cheek as he walked past, "What do you feel like having for breakfast?" James called over his shoulder as he rummaged through the pantry. "We've got a long day ahead of us."

It was still dark outside. The sun hadn't even begun to rise. He was right; this was going to be a very long day indeed. "I'm not hungry." How could I even think about food at a time like this? I stared at the gun he'd placed on the counter nearest to him, just out of arms reach for him, but across the room from where I sat. If I could make it there quickly enough, I'd be able to grab it. Then again, I could make a run for the door while he was distracted. Carefully, I shifted in the chair and angled myself as I prepared to stand.

"You've got to eat something." He began to list off the options, "We've got cereal, oatmeal, bagels…uh, bread for toast, and I'm pretty sure eggs in the fridge-"

I pushed myself up from the table and sprinted for the door before he could turn around. This was it. I was getting out of here or he'd have to kill me. He wasn't far behind, cursing as he followed quickly, gun in hand once more. He rounded the corner with the gun raised, quickly taking aim as he advanced. I was so close, if I could get the locks undone before James got to me—or worse— I'd be free. My heart skipped a beat as I glanced back and stumbled in all of my haste just as the loud bang of a gunshot rang out and echoed all too loudly off the walls.

Everything stopped for a moment. The shot had stunned both of us, each in disbelief for different reasons. Looking down, I checked myself, but saw nothing. "Get back here or I swear I won't miss next time!" James recovered from the shock faster than I had. I was just happy to have been so lucky.

There wasn't time for anything else to be said or done before a loud roar sounded in response to the commotion. I knew that roar. Bruce was here? No, the Hulk was here now. He must have heard the gunshot. Relief and panic swept over me all at once as I scrambled to move away from the front of the house just as the door—and the surrounding wall—was kicked in by a large green foot.

"Doctor!" A voice from outside was calling, one that I didn't recognize. It was drowned out as the Hulk ripped his way into the house.

Breathing heavily, the Hulk searched the area, his eyes stopping on me. "I—I'm okay." The giant took a step forward to check for himself.

"What the hell is that?" I turned just in time to see James raise the gun again, higher this time to point towards the Hulk. The Hulk's attention was drawn to his new foe and he let out another roar at the challenge, enraged by the lone figure that dare raise the gun to him. He was seething with anger which was enough to frighten anyone.

"Don't shoot!" I had no doubt in my mind that the bullets would bounce off of the Hulk. In fact, I was more concerned about trying to calm him down. All I wanted was to get away from this place and back to somewhere I knew where it was safe for both of us. If we could just leave, without destroying the area, that was what I wanted. Tentatively, I moved forward, reaching with both hands for the larger green one closest to me.

More gunshots rang out until only clicking could be heard. James was out of bullets and out of time. From the corner of my eye a figure moved. A blond man ran over and pulled me a step back, throwing a shielded arm over my shoulder and forcing me to duck down with him just as the Hulk's arm swung back. Making the ground shake and the floor splinter from the force, the Hulk leapt forward towards James. Looking up, I saw two blasts of light speed past; one of the beams sent James flying back and the other simply fizzled out as it connected with the Hulk's back, effectively grabbing his attention. Iron Man?

"You can't crush him, big guy. We need to take him back with us too." Sure enough, Iron Man flew past and landed between the Hulk and his target. His suit, however, was different from the ones I'd seen before. He'd obviously made adjustments to his original design on a portable suit after his encounter with Whiplash and the military drones. This one was heavier, with less space available to be easily penetrated thanks to another layer of metal, but I doubted it could last long in a fight with the Hulk.

From the background, James groaned and sat up in a pile of debris. The movement caught the Hulk's eye and he began to move forward, tearing through the hall without a second thought. Even from a distance, I could see the color drain from James' face as he tried to get away, running towards the back and fumbling with the door.

"Doctor!" The blond man tried again, rising to his full height. The shield, I recognized as Captain America's, but he wasn't in uniform. His call fell to deaf ears and the Hulk didn't slow in his walk towards the terrified individual making an escape.

"I know. I don't like him either. We still need to bring him back with us though." Iron Man raised his hands, repulsors glowing as he prepared to fire another blast, "Come on, buddy. Don't let this get ugly."

Still, the Hulk advanced, making to move past Iron Man until the blasts were fired. Again, they simply dwindled the moment they hit their mark, but this time the Hulk stopped and observed the red and silver man. Taking flight just as a huge green hand reached for him, Tony let off another set of blasts and tried to draw the attention to himself.

"Are you completely insane?" The man known as Captain America gave an exasperated sigh, quickly making his way over as well.

Tony began to lead the Hulk back through the front, maintaining the succession of blasts to keep the giant from noticing the man trying to make his way out the back. The blonde haired man hurried towards James before he could get too far, dragging the smaller man back and instructing him to stay put. Obviously the Captain didn't trust James not to scurry away the moment he turned his back and made a point of staying close. At any other time, that picture would have been amusing, but right now there were more pressing matters to attend to.

Frustrated, the Hulk jumped up and swatted the flying man from the air, sending him back to earth with a loud metallic thud. After a moment of stillness on his behalf, Tony regained his senses and sat up slowly, "Real nice."

With a huff, the Hulk turned around, searching for his original target and letting out another roar upon finding him. Making the ground quake once more, he began a sort of jog towards James, fully intent on crushing the individual. Moving quickly, the blonde grabbed James by the arms, pulled him off of his feet—most likely unintentionally in his rush—and pushed him out of the way as he ducked under his shield at the last second. The Hulk's fist connected with the surprisingly resilient shield, but it didn't stop the force from driving the Captain to the ground.

Angered by the constant intervention the Hulk let out a low growl and scooped up the captain with one hand, discarding him completely by tossing him to the side as he once again set his sights on James. The blur of Captain America crashed through the space just below the staircase before coming to a complete stop. Only the sound of shifting debris came from the space to show that he was still alive and somewhat awake.

"Hey! Use your words." Iron Man flew from behind, a metal fist slamming into the Hulk's jaw as he turned towards the voice.

Unfazed, the Hulk caught the figure mid flight and threw him to the ground, lifting a foot and preparing to stomp down. Rolling out of the way, Iron Man jumped back into the air only to be backhanded out of the way, joining Captain America in his place below the stairs.

"Never mind, that works too." Tony called after a moment of gathering himself. There was a pause and a scuffle, "Ah, no. What are you doing? He's-"

The famous shield of Captain America shot out, bounced off of the Hulk's shoulder, and returned to its place. Finally having everything sink in, I ran away from the general area in a wide circle as the Hulk accepted the Captain's challenge. "Come on!" Why I motioned for James to follow, I didn't know. After everything he'd done, after everything he'd put me through…I still didn't have it in me to let him get flattened by the Hulk.

Moving away from the commotion, we made it out through the back and into the clearing of the backyard. I was still barefoot, but that was the last thing on my mind at the moment. On all sides there were heavily wooded areas that left no indication of which way we should go. Bruce—the Hulk—was angry. We couldn't go back to the front and lead him to the road. It was obvious that Iron Man and Captain America couldn't subdue the giant. He had to be calmed down soon. The question was how?

"Rachel, what kind of freak show did you bring out here?" We stopped halfway as I contemplated where to go next.

"Me?" I stared incredulously, "You've got some kind of nerve trying to put this on me!"

"Well they're obviously here for-"

"No, they're here _because of you_. And the Hulk, he's after you." I scoffed, "You should be happy Iron Man and Captain America are trying to save your sorry ass." Even now, with everything to lose he still hadn't changed. Just how far gone was he?

"Whatever. I'm not going to sit here and wait for that monster to come out here." He started off towards the trees again.

I followed, ignoring the protest of my sore body and the occasional stab of a sharp rock or stick under my foot. I'm sure he was battered too after being tossed around like a rag doll in the beginning of the fight. "You- he's not a monster!" I managed between huffs. No, the Bruce I knew wasn't a monster and neither was the Hulk. From behind, I could hear a loud crash as one of the Hulk's opponents was thrown through the last wall and into the yard, but I didn't look back. I refused to let James out of my sight.

"Hey! Where are-" The Captain stopped and clutched his side, trying to catch his breath. He was no match for the Hulk, not that he didn't already know that. Pushing past the burning and stabbing sensations, he lifted himself from his own mini crater slowly. At least the super soldier serum allowed his body not only to be pushed further than others, but also to heal at a speed that he was immensely grateful for at the moment. He began to make his way back to the house, but thought better of it and decided to follow the two running into the woods.

I continued to trail James until we reached a clearing, finally slowing our pace once both of us were out of breath and hunched over. From behind another set of footsteps joined in, stopping between the two of us. "Where's Mr. Stark?" I panted, looking to the Captain. The answer was obvious; I was just hoping that he hadn't been crushed.

"Uh, he's a bit busy at the moment." A pang of guilt hit the Captain as he thought of leaving Iron Man to fend for himself against the Hulk, but they were outmatched and he'd already made his choice to make sure that the doctor's friend would be okay.

Even with the distance between them, they could hear the Hulk roar and begin to smash his way over. Before James could move to run again, the Hulk easily made the jump to the clearing and landed in front of the man he'd been chasing followed closely by Iron Man. It was over and James knew it as he stared up at the very embodiment of sheer rage.

"No!" I lunged forward, trying to catch James before the Hulk got him.

With a satisfied growl, the giant prepared to finish the job, reaching out with a hand to crush the man cowering before him, but stopped short as I jumped between the two. I used the pause to move forward, wrapping both my arms around the massive forearm still at my level and tugged at him for attention. I remained firm as I watched the Hulk in his internal struggle, the urge to crush the now sobbing individual was evident.

"Ma'am, I'm not so sure that's a good idea." The Captain rushed forward to pull me away, but I ignored him and tightened my grip on the Hulk's arm. Trying to be gentle not only for my sake, but also in an attempt not to upset the Hulk further, the Captain tried to pull me away from the giant and I fought with him every step of the way.

"Easy, Cap. Give her a chance." Iron Man's mask retracted as Tony watched curiously as the scene unfolded. Reluctantly, the blonde let go and took a step back, still wary of the entire situation.

"Please." I stared up into the Hulk's eyes, still keeping an unyielding grip on his arm. Even now I didn't know why I was doing this for James, but I couldn't let him die like this. Maybe it wasn't for him so much as it was for myself. Seeing so much anger and pain coming from a single individual who I'd come to know—before I knew he was the Hulk—was overwhelming. I remembered looking up into these same eyes after the fire, I hadn't been sure what I saw at the time, but it was clear now and I wanted it to stop.

The Hulk turned his attention back to the man who looked about ready to pass out as he paused. I could see the anger swell inside of the giant at the sight of James, but he didn't move to kill the man. That was good. With a final noise of contempt—as if to say he wasn't worth the trouble— and a look of warning, the Hulk reached with his other hand and carelessly tossed the terrified individual to the side and in the general direction of Iron Man who caught him.

"You owe me a new suit." Tony dropped the man onto the ground without a second thought and crossed his arms, obviously unhappy with his run-in with the Hulk. His new suit now held many new dents and scratches. The damage was so extensive that even I knew he'd be lucky if he didn't have to scrap the whole thing once he returned to Stark tower. At least the basic functions seemed to work well enough, maybe some of it could be salvaged, but he might just start another new and improved model.

Slowly, the Hulk bent his arm, lifting me fully off of the ground as he used his free hand to gently pry me off of his arm. Without pause, he tucked me close to his chest and leapt out of the clearing, moving deeper into the woods. Neither of the other heroes made an attempt to follow and I was alone with the Hulk. We stopped in another small clearing where I was finally set back on the ground in front of the giant. The ground trembled as he took a seat, attempting to reduce the gap of our height difference and appear less intimidating.

Quietly, he watched as I approached him, placing a gentle hand on his bent knee. His breathing was just beginning to slow, but I could still see the muddled emotions playing in his eyes. We stayed that way for a moment as I waited for his breathing to relax a bit more. I watched as he observed me with a look of question on his face.

"I'm okay." I reassured. Tired and sore, I moved to sit next to the giant, leaning back on my hands so I could look up at him, "Thank you, for everything." I offered a small smile, "I wouldn't be here without you."

It was quiet after that and the only noise came from the sounds of our breathing and the wildlife stirring around the clearing. When the Hulk's breathing slowed to what I assumed to be a more relaxed pace, I stood up from my spot and looked up into his face again. "I'm going to go find some clothes." I realized that after Bruce was back, he'd only have a pair of much too large pants for clothing. For a moment he moved to follow, but I motioned for him to stay and after another pause he took up his spot on the ground again. "Don't worry. I'll be back, I promise."

* * *

Tony, Steve, and James sat in silence back at what was left of the house, exchanging awkward glances as they waited. Most of the ground floor had been destroyed and what remained barely supported the second story. The only place that seemed safe was the basement, save for the hole through the floor that Iron Man had been thrown through earlier. Even so, the heroes sat comfortably—as much as one can after being bruised all over— on the cushioned sofa with James on the other side of the room.

"So," Tony was the first to break the silence, pausing as he thought of a topic, "How've you been lately?"

A small breath of a laugh made its way from the Captain. He was still trying to get a hold of the world, making progress at his own pace, "Fine I guess." It wasn't an honest conversation, just an icebreaker. They could catch up later after the doctor and his friend returned.

"You know, I think pizza should be some sort of omen of bad fortune." Tony fiddled with the outside of the Iron Man case, still griping over the suit, "I mean the least you could do is bring me new materials instead of a lousy pie as if that makes trying to kill me all better."

Chuckling at Tony's lighthearted way of looking at the situation, Steve regarded the genius, "I'm sure if the Hulk really wanted to kill us, he would have. He just wanted us out of the way."

"Oh that's comforting. So you don't mind being tossed around like a rag doll? Next time we fight on the same team, I'll remember that." He finally regarded the reason they'd traveled all this way, "And you, what the hell is your problem?"

Shifting uncomfortably under the unwavering stares of the two across from him, James took a moment before he replied, "I don't have a problem. I just wanted to talk to Rachel, but she wouldn't give me the time of day. So, I took it."

Dumbfounded by the reply, Tony eyed the man and searched for any trace of a joke, "You took it?" He raised an eyebrow, "Is that supposed to be some kind of joke? You can't just walk around plucking people off the street, especially if it's someone close to one of my friends." There weren't many people Tony considered to be friends, but in his own…eccentric way he cared for them.

"That green monster? You call that thing your friend?"

"Okay, we're done here." Tony stood, suit in hand and walked out of the room. He returned after a few minutes, suit on and with a bag in hand. "Here, Cap. I'll see you guys when you get back. This is my gym bag; give it to the big guy when he and Rachel wander over here." He dropped the bag with a muffled thud and tossed a set of keys towards Steve and crossed over to James, grabbing him rather roughly by the collar of his shirt and dragging him back to the front, "Don't wait up for me." He called over his shoulder as the mask covered his face and he took off, James still in hand.

* * *

**AN: Thank you so much for reading and I'm sorry it took so long for me to post it. Again, another thank you to Speakfire who has helped me out so much.**


	14. Chapter 14

When Bruce came to he found himself staring up at the now brightening sky. Blinking to shield his eyes from the sudden change, he sat up slowly as he tried to get a reading on where he was or what happened. From what he could remember there was a gunshot, worry, fear, blinding rage, and then nothing. Alarmed, he looked around to see if anyone else was around and if they were alright.

"Bruce, are you okay?" He recognized Rachel's voice immediately, quickly focusing on the spot her voice was coming from. She was sitting just at the edge of the clearing with her back turned to him. He almost wondered why she wasn't facing him, but the sudden awareness of the oversized pants being his only cover was apparent to him now that his thoughts were coming into line. "You're awake now? There's a bag with some of Mr. Stark's clothes in it next to you."

"Ah, yeah I'm awake. Thanks." Questions were still piling up in his mind, each fighting to make it out first, but at the moment he was trying to savor the relief of knowing she was okay. Locating the bag just an arm's length away, he pulled it closer and began to change into the clothes. "Where are we?" He wondered out loud as he observed the surroundings a bit closer.

"Somewhere near Niagara Falls, I'm not sure." He saw her shrug and begin to fiddle with the grass between her fingers. "We're not too far from that house though, if that helps. About a half hour walk." She paused, "Then again I've been walking barefoot, so give or take a few minutes. Heels aren't the best for hiking."

He could feel himself begin to smile, humor was good. Any form of joking usually meant that things weren't terribly wrong. Still, he was unsure of what to expect when he would be told what happened. As he finished getting dressed, he rolled up the too large pants and stuffed them into the gym bag before throwing it over his shoulder and moving closer to the edge of the woods where Rachel waited. "Are you okay?" He stopped by her side and took the moment to look for any sign of obvious injury. She was on her feet now, not weighing on one side more than the other which was good. There weren't any visible injuries with the exception of a considerable amount of bruises and minor scrapes. Her arm and opposing hand were wrapped in bandages though, why was that?

"I am now because of you." She faced him, offering a small smile, "Mr. Stark and Captain America kept the damage to a minimum, but this makes the second time you've saved my life."

"I'm just glad you're not…gone." Dead was too heavy of a word for him to say. He didn't want to think about it. Fully allowing the relief to wash over him now that he knew everyone was still in one piece, he enveloped her in a hug, gently resting his chin on the top of her head. At the moment, the details didn't matter. All that mattered was that everyone was okay, that she was okay.

* * *

It was almost two in the afternoon by the time we reached the city again, but by then I was exhausted despite nodding off a few times on the way back. We split up after our arrival to take time to settle back into the city before we met up again. Captain America—or Steve as he asked me to call him—had gone to Stark tower while Bruce and I returned to his apartment.

Soon after reaching the apartment I excused myself to go shower, bringing a set of sweatpants and a shirt to change into after. I'd gone out and gotten a few sets of clothes before, grabbing a few pairs of comfortable clothes while there. There was just something comforting about being able to curl up in a set of baggy clothes after a long shower. Of course, no matter how much I wished I could, I knew I wouldn't be able to scrub away the horrible events that had just transpired in the last day or so.

After taking cover under the warm water, it was hard to get out. I didn't want to face the truth and made a point of trying not to concentrate on the bruises that littered my body or the cuts on my hand and arm. I wasn't ready to deal with the all too fresh memories they brought back. Instead, I stayed under the water and tried to relax after I was done washing.

I must have been in the shower longer than I thought because after a while Bruce knocked on the door, "Rachel, are you okay?" His muffled voice made it through the door and over the rushing water.

"Uh, yeah." I snapped back to reality, "Sorry, I'll be out in just a minute."

"No rush, I was just checking." With that, I assumed he left and I took one last moment to enjoy the water before shutting it off.

Finally dressed, I took in a deep breath and stepped out of the bathroom. I still wasn't ready, but I couldn't hide out in the shower forever. Slowly, I came to join Bruce in front of the television, sitting and leaning into the armrest of the adjacent sofa. He must have used the other shower in his room because he was already clean and changed by the time I found him. Was I really in the shower that long? Neither of us seemed to be ready to address the issue at hand. Wordlessly, he reached for a steaming mug of hot chocolate and passed it to me before picking up the other for himself. I could feel the small smile touch my face as I nodded my thanks and shifted into a more comfortable position.

The mug was too warm to hold with my injured hand, so I balanced it against my leg with the other until I was ready to drink it. Quietly, I watched the steam swirl and dissipate into the nearby air, refusing to look up. I could feel him watching me, but I refused to meet his gaze. To my relief, he didn't pry and instead waited patiently for me to look up.

When I finally did look up, I regretted it immediately. He'd been observing my hand and arm from where he sat, meeting my eyes as soon as I'd looked up. I wished I could have covered the wounds before coming out here, but I'd decided on giving them time to air after being in the shower. Now I wished I hadn't.

I looked away before he could get a word out, taking a sip of the hot chocolate. He released the breath he'd taken to speak and resumed waiting for me to look up again, tasting his own drink. We both knew everything had to be discussed at some point. And so, he waited and I stalled.

He waited for me to finish my drink, leaving me nothing else to stave off the impending conversation and I knew it as I took the last sip. Still, he waited for me to look up, but I didn't. "I, uh, I think I'll nap before we go to Stark tower." I stood, making quick strides to the kitchen to put my cup in the sink.

I could hear the clink of ceramic on glass as he set down his own mug, moving to stand in the doorway. No, I wasn't ready to talk just yet. I walked over, fully intent on walking past him, but stopped short when he didn't budge. Instead, he placed a gentle hand on either shoulder and held me at arm's length, tilting his head slightly as he took in my expression.

"What happened to your arm?" He released my shoulders, but remained between me and the study.

I stared back, not knowing what to say. The answer was simple. I tried to kill myself. At least, I thought about it, but I couldn't tell him that. It didn't matter if I told him, it was clear as day. How could it be mistaken for anything else? "Do I really have to say it?" My voice was barely a whisper as I thought back to being trapped in that basement.

His eyes softened and he shook his head. With that, I took a step forward to go around him, and again he didn't move. "We can't just ignore this."

"Look, I really don't want to talk about it, okay? I just want to sleep." I pleaded, watching how his eyes traveled down to look at my arm again. His eyes snapped back up to mine when I crossed my arms across my chest and hid the markings out of sight.

"You know we have to talk about this sometime." He tried to reason, but I didn't want to hear it, not now. I just wanted to get away and curl up, or even better, to crawl into a hole and never come out. Everything was a mess and I didn't even know where to start to put it back together again.

"No, we don't. Just leave it, okay?" I shrugged, crossing back to the sink and turning on the water to wash out the mug. He couldn't see my face. I didn't want him to see me right now, just barely keeping it together.

I felt him come up behind me, reaching across to shut off the water before he leaned against the counter next to the sink, "Rachel-"

"What do you want me to say?" I set the mug back in the sink a bit more forcefully than I meant to, "I did it, okay?" I finally looked up, seeing the shock of my outburst on his face, "He locked me in a bathroom and I didn't see a way out. I thought it might just be easier if I just ended it all." I looked away.

"Why would you think that'd be easier?" The momentary shock was gone, replaced with an expression I couldn't read.

"I just… I don't know. I didn't see an end to all of this. I mean, everything's just been so hectic. It just seemed like I brought trouble everywhere I went, like it was never going to be over." I shook my head. "I was trapped and everything just sort of hit me."

It was quiet for a moment as everything set in. Then suddenly his hands found my shoulders and his eyes locked with mine in an intense stare, "Don't you ever do that again." Before I could even think of a reply, he continued, "When I heard that gunshot, I just lost it. I thought you might have died." He paused and I could see him fight to push the idea out of his head, "Since I met you, I'd been worrying that the Other—the Hulk would scare you away or hurt you, but I continued to meet with you because for the first time in a long time, I was happy. You gave me something that I thought I'd lost. You made me feel human again and even more so, you stayed, Hulk or not. And when I thought you might be gone, I snapped. If I lost you now, I don't know what I'd do."

He'd caught me off guard. I didn't have a reply, but his words had definitely sunk in. "I'm sorry." That was it. That was my response. For a while I'd known how much this friendship meant to me, but I never really stopped to think what it meant to him. Depending on how you look at it, it was selfish to do so, but at the same time I never really thought anyone could care that much about someone like me. I mean, who was I? Certainly no one special. Yet here I stood in front of the man who risked exposing his most guarded secret twice for me.

"I don't want you to be sorry. I want to know that you'll be okay." He let his hands fall to his sides, but we remained rooted in our spots.

I allowed my eyes to fall as I thought, "I don't know." It's hard to look forward when just a little while ago you were ready for everything to be over.

For once he didn't question my pessimistic reply, but instead he nodded in understanding. "I'll be right here with you as long as you'd like me to be."

Now I was the one watching his expression, it was more than understanding. It was almost knowing. Was this what he was referring to when we met? Did he know just how low I felt? Yes, he knew how it felt to want everything to stop, but to continue shuffling on. It made sense. We connected for the first time over a topic so dark that most would cringe inwardly at the mention of it and still he didn't treat me like a head case. I'd had my suspicions early on, but I'd just hoped they weren't true. It pained me to think that he'd been down in this same dark hole. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course." He seemed to sense my apprehension, standing a little taller as he prepared himself for the inquiry.

"How did you move on?" I watched closely, his face only showing subtle changes as he thought, but I knew he understood.

Releasing the breath he'd been holding momentarily, he allowed a wry smile to cross his features, "I didn't really have a choice." He sighed and all traces of humor were gone, "The, uh, the Hulk put an abrupt end to my plans and I had to move on." So he was literally forced to go on. That wasn't the most encouraging answer, but at least it was an honest one.

"Would you do it if you could?" I didn't mean for that to slip out. I didn't want to know. Actually, I did want to know. I just hoped that the answer would be a no.

He raised his eyebrows and blinked, obviously not expecting the question either. "Well at first I was upset about it. It was another thing about me that was no longer my choice." He left no room for pause as he went on, "But to answer your question, no, because once I was able to move past the idea I went on to help people. I won't lie and say that satisfied everything I wanted in life, but it helped me out of the self pity I'd allowed myself to fall into. You see, what I needed was a push to keep going even though at the time I didn't want it. I'm not saying it was perfect and for a long time I resented the choice being taken away, but I'm happy for it now because even though things still get tough and new problems come up, I'm still happy to experience life no matter how astray it seems to have gone then not at all."

I wasn't quite sure how to feel about the answer, but nodded anyway to show that I was listening. The logical side of me knew it made sense when you looked at it that way, but I still couldn't see it just yet. At the moment, he was the only ray of light shining though and I clung to that fact. I trusted him and that was all I could think to do. Sure I couldn't see the bright side just yet, but I knew it had to come at some point and what was better was that I wasn't alone. How he'd managed to make it through by himself without going insane, I wouldn't know, but I was so glad he was here to push me to keep going.

* * *

"Oh good, you guys are here." Tony greeted with outstretched arms as if going for a hug before snatching up the take out he's asked us to pick up on the way over. He'd made it clear that anything except pizza was okay despite Bruce insisting that he was being irrational. "Cap, you have got to try this." He immediately began to search for plates.

"Has he been…well himself?" Bruce shot a sympathetic look towards Steve who seemed to be relieved at our arrival.

"What are you talking about? I'm fantastic." Tony cut in, "I was just showing him some of the music he missed and I think it was going well."

Bruce and Steve shared a look as they shook their heads in unison. "I'm sure it was." Bruce placated, though he allowed the sarcasm to seep through as a small smile touched his face. It seemed this type of banter between the two was a common occurrence.

"You still owe me an apology by the way. I knew I shouldn't have taken pizza from anyone who lets themselves in." He dumped a generous portion onto his plate before pushing the rest of the food in Steve's general direction.

"You've got your food, don't you?" Steve chimed in as he began to pile food onto his own plate.

"I see, apparently feeding me makes it okay to try to kill me?" Tony attempted to feign hurt, but the effect was lost behind the mouthful of food.

"I guess so." Bruce continued with the usual joking routine.

"Rude." Tony scoffed, still faking his offence.

"Don't you have five other suits or something like that?" Steve questioned, having the table manners to swallow his food before speaking. I assumed Tony knew that too, but simply ignored it at the moment.

"Seven, soon to be eight again, not including the one from earlier." Tony looked towards Bruce, "Making one just for you, big guy." He paused, "Well _because_ of you anyway."

"I suppose I should be honored." Bruce passed an empty plate to me and we joined the others in the meal.

"You should. You're the first person who's tried to kill me that I've had to take notes on."

"I'm sure I wasn't trying to kill you, don't be so dramatic."

"Either way, you need to work on talking things out." Tony took Bruce's eye roll as a sign of admission and continued, "Don't worry. We'll work on it." With that the meal lapsed into light conversation, the serious topic at hand waiting until the meal was over.

After we finished, the matter at hand was finally brought up not so subtly by Tony, "So what do you want to do?" He looked at me.

"I don't know, I just want this to be over with already." I admitted. As angry as I should have been, I thought I'd want James to rot in jail, but I knew that couldn't happen. If I wanted to press charges the events of the last few weeks would come up if they hadn't already. Of course, I would never mention the Hulk, but James would and they might just believe him.

"Well you've got time to think, he's under arrest at the moment for skipping out on that court date." His eyes flickered to the fresh bandages on my hand, but he chose not to mention it. Still, I self-consciously pulled the sleeves of my sweatshirt halfway down my hands in response.

There was a lull in the conversation to allow time for me to think and any solution that came to mind was slim. "Even after everything, there's not all that much evidence. It's my word against his."

I noticed Steve's jaw set, but he refused to voice his thoughts which I was grateful for. I knew just letting it go wasn't the answer, but what else could I do? Bruce remained quiet as well. He removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose before taking in a deep breath and straightening out again. Tony on the other hand seemed to be analyzing the situation on his own.

"You know what, why don't we all just get some sleep and we'll figure things out later? It's been a long day." He strode over towards the coffeemaker and began to brew himself a cup. What he was thinking, I had no idea, but he obviously didn't plan to sleep for a while.

* * *

I couldn't sleep. Physically I was completely exhausted, but my mind wouldn't allow sleep to come. James was locked up and I was safe yet somehow that knowledge failed to put me at ease. Everything was still a mess. I was a mess.

Quietly I crept out of the study and down to Bruce's room. Light was seeping through the crack just below the door letting me know he was either still awake or had fallen asleep before he'd realized it. Lightly using the back of one knuckle to knock on the door, I waited for a response.

"It's open."

"I hope I'm not keeping you up." I stepped into the room. From the looks of it he couldn't sleep either. The sheets on his bed were hardly wrinkled, only showing where he'd been laying on top of the comforter.

He shook his head, "No, I don't sleep very much some nights." He sighed. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah." I lied, "I just can't sleep all that well tonight."

"Do you want to talk about it?" He motioned for me to join him, patting the open space next to him where he sat on the edge of the bed.

I shook my head and joined him. "I just don't want to be alone right now." I admitted. The last few encounters with James were stuck in my head. It seemed to play in my head over and over with every idle moment. I didn't want to think about it anymore.

"Okay." He nodded and fell silent for a moment, "Rachel, I'm sorry that this is so complicated with all of the secrets." He paused, "I can't really say how everything would have turned out, but at least things wouldn't be quite so-"

"Stop, please." I didn't want to hear him apologize to me. He had no reason to be sorry. "Bruce, you saved me. You risked exposing your secret for me twice. I don't regret meeting you and nothing can change that." There was a pause where I waited for my words to sink in, "Please, can we just talk since we're both up?"

It took a moment for him to accept what I'd said, but he finally nodded with one last sigh, "Of course." He stood, "Hot chocolate?"


	15. Chapter 15

I watched the cuts along my arm and hand disappear under fresh bandages, flexing my hand once Bruce returned it to me. "Thank you." Part of me still couldn't believe I'd done this to myself.

"How does that feel?"

For a second I wasn't sure that it was Bruce in front of me, but just as quickly as the thought entered my mind it was gone. Shaken slightly, I used the pause to gather myself. "Sorry, what?"

I noticed a brief pause from him as well as a fleeting look of suspicion, but whatever other question he had wasn't voiced, "Does it feel okay? Not too tight?"

"Oh, yeah. It feels fine." I flexed my hand once more to double check, "I zoned out for a second there, must be more tired than I thought."

"Well you did stay up all night. You should get some rest." He agreed, humoring me by going along with my excuse.

I decided against asking what he was really thinking at the moment. Instead I opted to actually get some rest and returned to the study. A few hours of rest is just what I needed before the day officially began for me.

* * *

Bruce finished packing up the first aid kit and sighed. This was going to be hard. Of course he hadn't expected it to be easy, but if what had just happened was what he thought it was then this was going to be just as bad as he was beginning to think it was. With what he knew about how she handled stress and her unwillingness to talk in much detail about anything that bothered her he feared she might shut down if the pressure was too much.

Simple distractions wouldn't be enough to move past this. It was time to talk, but not just yet. Unfortunately this wasn't an isolated event, she'd been bottling her emotions for a long time and he wasn't sure how to approach the topic just yet. Hell, he had his own demons he was still fighting with every day. How did he expect her to talk everything out when he hadn't figured it out himself? Still, she seemed like she was wearing a bit too thin and if she'd started flashing back and dwelling it might be worse if left alone. He hoped she'd find the strength to talk about it with him or even someone else, but he knew that if she did it couldn't be pressured. She had to open up on her own.

Storing the first aid kit back in the top of the linen closet, Bruce decided to get some rest of his own. He made his way back to his room, catching sight of his cell phone on the nightstand. He was curious, what was it that Tony had been planning last night? Of course, Tony wasn't one to run his plans by others most of the time, but if you worked around him long enough there seemed to be less left as a mystery.

"Morning. Did you sleep well? I know I did." Tony greeted, obviously joking about his own sleepless night.

"Sleep? I'm not familiar with the word." Bruce sighed, "I'll sleep in a bit." He admitted.

"Curious about my shenanigans?"

"Yeah. What were you planning?"

"Well not so much planning as I was talking." Tony clarified. "Fury and I had a nice little chat over some coffee, just like the good old days."

"And I'm sure you were your usual charming self?" Bruce ran a hand through his hair and removed his glasses. He could see where this was going, sitting on the edge of the bed as he tried to sort out how he felt about what he would hear.

"As always."

It turned out S.H.I.E.L.D had already taken matters into their own hands as soon as James mentioned the Hulk, effectively cutting him off from any outside ties and silencing or paying off anyone related to the case. By the time Tony called to discuss the situation everything was settled and a rather annoyed director was already waiting to hear what the other side of the story was. After all, it wasn't every day a person with an arrest warrant was hand delivered by Iron Man and then later said person was going on about how Captain America and the Hulk would be coming to find him.

They were all expected to come in for debriefing within twenty-four hours or someone would be sent out to meet with them. The fact that the choice of how to deal with the situation was taken away was both a relief and unwanted, Bruce wasn't sure which way to feel about it. On one hand, the Hulk having almost made a mess of things twice would be kept quiet, but then again this wasn't just his problem. How would Rachel feel about this?

* * *

Drawing in a deep breath, my eyes flew open and I was looking up at the ceiling. It took me a second to realize that I was laying in the study, just waking up. It was just a bad dream, a nightmare. My heart was still racing and my muscles were tense. Sitting up, I waited for my heart to slow down to a normal pace before getting up. I needed something to do, anything to take my mind off of James.

There wasn't too much of interest in the study, but I grabbed a sheet of computer paper and a pencil anyway. Drawing would be something to immerse myself in if nothing else. I wasn't particularly good at drawing. In fact, my skill didn't go any further than the occasional absentminded doodle, but still it was something to do. Before I could start, I needed something to eat having only had take out the previous night and nothing the day before.

I set about making something quick. A stir fry and rice would be easy enough. After finishing I left the food on the stove to keep warm and sat at the kitchen table to draw. Not wanting to leave my mind with much room to wander, I began to sketch out what I saw in front of me. Simple as the idea was, it allowed me to drift away as I focused on recreating the view before me.

"Smells good." Bruce greeted with a small smile as he entered the kitchen. He glanced down at the paper I'd been drawing on and moved towards the stove for closer inspection. "What are you working on?" Looking over his shoulder and again at the paper he turned his full attention to me.

"Just a doodle." I swept the paper up, slightly embarrassed for him to see my sketch. For a second I was sure I saw another smile at my reaction, but I ignored his humor at my expense and moved to store the paper in my jeans pocket. "I was waiting for you to wake up so we could eat."

"Subtle." He commented on my change of topic and turned to grab a couple of plates.

"As ever." I stood and crossed over to the stove to dish out the food.

He was quiet, pensive even during the meal. I could tell he had something to say, but he waited until the meal was just about finished before speaking up. "I need to tell you something about the case." He began slowly, carefully gauging my reaction as he went on, "It's—well it's been taken over as a sort of federal thing now."

"Federal?" I wasn't sure what to expect, but it certainly wasn't this. Having any police intervention was messy enough, now it's federal? What changed literally over night?

"The organization that put us, the Avengers, together has been keeping other interested groups off of my trail for longer than I know. They've been keeping tabs on things here in New York lately especially after the fire and all." He sighed, "As soon as the Hulk was mentioned last night the case was taken over." He paused as he thought of how to phrase what he was going to say next, ending his inner debate with another sigh, "Well they need us, all of us, to come in for debriefing."

There was a stretch of silence that settled between us as I let everything sink in. "Who exactly is this group?" Even to me my voice sounded hollow almost, not yet filled with the emotions I was still trying to process.

"Are you okay?" He was still watching for my reaction, obviously concerned with my display of emotion or lack thereof.

I nodded, maintaining eye contact determinedly. He didn't continue right away, still waiting for a reaction. What did he expect me to do? Does he think I'll be upset? Should I be? "Bruce." I prompted, still not quite sure what to make of the news.

Hesitantly, he continued, "Their name is S.H.I.E.L.D, the Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcement and Logistics Division. What I know about them is limited as I'm sure it is even to their agents. I know that's not much to go on, but they aren't really the most flexible group of people so they are expecting us to report soon."

"How soon?"

"Sometime tonight, tomorrow morning at the latest if they're patient." He left the sentence open ended as if there was more to it. What? That they'd come and collect us if we didn't show up?

Again I was quiet for a moment. It didn't sound like there was much of a choice in this. What was I supposed to say to that? "Okay." My voice remained empty, giving away nothing. I began to finish the little food left on my plate almost mechanically, not tasting or caring that it was cold.

"Okay?" Bruce tested the word with me, unsure what to make of my response. I wasn't even sure how I felt about this.

"What other choice is there?" I was suspicious of the idea. How was I expected to just explain everything to a complete stranger? Of course, I knew I'd have to if I were to handle this in court anyway. I wasn't ready to just dive in, but what other option did I have? On the other hand at least there wouldn't be a trial. This would never be made public and Bruce's secret was safe. That should make this situation better, right?

"True. I just—I want to know what you think about this."

What I think? "I think… I think that I wish none of this happened. I think that it's unfair. I think—I don't know what I think." Contemplating what I'd just said, I stopped. What _did_ I think?

"Rachel, I'm here to listen if there's anything you want to talk about. You can even just vent if that's what you need to do." Bruce offered.

Then it hit me. Bruce was worried I'd go off the deep end. "I'm fine, okay?" Did he really think I'd just explode?

He seemed to pick up on what I'd been thinking, "That's not what I mean. You know I've always been here for you. I just want you to know you're not alone in this."

"I know. I'm just not sure I'm ready to talk about it yet, okay?" Standing up, I began to clear the table.

"Alright." He let it go for now, joining me in clean up.

We stayed in the living room and watched television for a while, just trying to relax as we waited to see what would happen. Bruce had gotten a text from Tony a few minutes ago saying that an Agent Romanoff had come to pick them up and that we would most likely be picked up by an Agent Barton. As if on cue there was a knock at the door soon after.

A short haired man of average height nodded towards Bruce, "Doctor." He greeted, scanning the room before stopping on me, "Miss Brooke." His demeanor seemed to soften and he offered a small smile.

I returned the smile and prepared to leave, abandoning my spot on the couch and turning the television off. There was something familiar about his face. If I wasn't mistaken, I'm pretty sure he's Hawkeye. He helped save the world as part of the Avengers I believe. It'd been a while since I last saw the clips from the event, but I was sure that had to be him.

"Agent Barton." Bruce returned the greeting and looked to me, "Ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be." I sighed and joined them at the door.

Agent Barton and Bruce filled the silence on the way to wherever we were going. From what I gathered, they were somewhere between acquaintances and friends and the topics they chose were their way of trying to get a reading on the other's personality. They were trivial things about hobbies, movies, etc. Anything other than this organization seemed fine to talk about. I couldn't bring myself to join in the conversation, distracted by the continuous knotting of my stomach. Instead I stared out of the darkly tinted windows of the vehicle and watched the city go by. Every now and then I noticed Bruce look over to see how I was doing and each time I retained a stoic expression. Still he seemed to know just how nervous I was and offered reassuring smiles, obviously choosing not to bring up our previous conversation in the presence of others.

After passing through some rather heavy looking security, we finally came to a stop deep within an underground garage. Escorted by agent Barton, we entered the building and met with another agent inside. The two agents nodded in greeting without a word and proceeded.

"Doctor Banner, I'll be taking you to a separate room where another agent will be waiting to debrief you. Agent Miller will be taking Miss Brooke." Agent Barton spoke up, signaling the end of any lighthearted conversation that had taken place on the way.

"Follow me, please." Agent Miller instructed, turning on her heel and beginning to lead the way down the hall.

There was no room for objection. Quickly looking back at Bruce who looked just as perturbed as I was, I began to follow Agent Miller down the hall. The building had a cold, institutionalized feel to it, so instead I studied the woman in front of me as we walked. She wore a sort of uniform combat style outfit it seemed with her strawberry blonde hair neatly trimmed and styled. With purpose she strode confidently down the hall until we reached our destination.

The room was empty with the exception of a large metal table and two wooden chairs. On the table, there was a glass of water waiting where I assumed I would be sitting. Across the table there was a folder with my name printed on it along with a notepad and pen. On the opposite wall from where I would be, there was a large mirror or what I expected was a one way mirror so that someone could look in on the interview from the next room.

"Would you like anything else before we begin?" Agent Miller offered, remaining by the door while I took a seat.

"No thank you." I murmured, feeling my heart rate pick up and mouth go dry as she came over to the seat across from me.

"Tell me about Mr. Evans." She pulled the pad of paper closer and picked up the pen, looking up at me expectantly as she poised her hand over the page.

"We, uh, we used to date." What exactly did they want to know about him?

"How would you describe the relationship? Good, bad, stressful?"

Reaching forward, I pulled the glass of water closer to me and focused my gaze on the sloshing liquid inside, "Good at first, he was nice. Had a few issues, but never directed at me." I swallowed, contemplating taking a drink of water or waiting until later. I was sure there would be more than just this to talk about. "He started to get really clingy. At first I thought he just needed reassurance maybe, but he started to get controlling."

"Controlling?"

I nodded, "Had to keep my hair a certain way or he'd have a fit… He didn't like my coworkers or family, so I didn't talk to them very often when he was around. Eventually most got fed up and stopped talking to me." Pausing as I thought, I almost couldn't believe that was me. How did I not see it? "He'd call a lot or text to see where I was. Sometimes he'd get upset that I had to go to therapy instead of spending time with him. Said, 'So you need therapy to be around me? Are you messed up?' as if I weren't trying. I really was. I thought if I could keep him happy everything would be nice again, but nothing was ever good enough."

Agent Miller was taking notes diligently, looking up occasionally when there was a pause. "Was he ever violent towards you during your relationship?"

I took a sip of water, needing a moment to collect myself. "Uh, he'd yell a lot, slam doors, storm out sometimes…"

"Anything physical?" She looked up from her notes, searching my face before giving a small nod for me to continue.

The words were stuck in my throat and my mouth was suddenly dry once more despite having had water seconds ago. I stared at the glass again, watching how it distorted my fingerprints on the other side, "He'd grab my arms a lot, sometimes too hard, but I don't think he knew it." I could feel my heart thumping against my chest as I tried not to focus on it, "Sometimes he'd push me away when he was mad. I'm not even sure if he remembered it."

"Is that all that happened?" She prompted, watching my hands as I began to rotate the glass nervously.

Swallowing hard, I shook my head and kept my gaze down. I didn't want to keep going. Wishing I could be back in the study, asleep, I closed my eyes for a moment. Vaguely I wondered what was being asked of the others, what was Bruce thinking? Would he hear what was said here tonight? I didn't want him to know.

"Miss Brooke, I need you to answer the question." From the look on her face I felt she knew at least the gist of what I was going to say, why I couldn't answer immediately.

With a shaky breath I continued, "No… Sometimes when I'd get really down I didn't want to be around anyone. I just couldn't _be_ with him sometimes, but he'd always push. No wasn't really something he liked to hear." I couldn't believe I'd said that. I felt sick.

Shifting, Agent Miller removed a small packet of tissues from her pocket and slid it across the table for me. "Do you need a moment?" She offered a kind smile, but remained otherwise impassive as she glanced down at the notepad.

Gratefully, I accepted the package Taking a moment to quickly remove a tissue and dab at my eyes, I wiped away the stray tears that escaped me. After steadying myself again, I took another sip of water to clear my airway and glanced up to signal that I was ready again. The sooner this was over, the sooner I could curl up in a hole and never come out. I wished Bruce was here. I didn't want him to hear my answers, but I needed him to be close.

"How would you say things were after the relationship ended?"

Breathing deeply as I thought, I tried not to let myself feel the emotions as I began again, "It was quiet at first, but then he started calling and texting a lot. He'd call maybe twenty or thirty times in the middle of the night sometimes. When I told him to stop talking to me, he only started to call more and leave angry messages and texts." Ignoring my heart rate, I pushed on, "I blocked him and for a while I thought that was it, but he started sending letters and emails from different accounts. It was like even though we'd broken up, he was still trying to insert himself in my life as if it should revolve around him and what he wanted."

"And how long did this go on?" The pen didn't stop moving. Was she writing about me too?

"Months. He'd show up at work sometimes until I told security to keep him out of the building. It just seemed to get worse and then Bruce brought up a restraining order. I thought it'd be a good idea, but it set him off."

* * *

Bruce relayed information when prompted, leaving out personal details he felt weren't his to tell. The agent conducting the interview had obviously read his file and although he didn't show any signs of nervousness outwardly, he didn't pry too much after feeling that he'd collected a sufficient amount of information. Bruce was sure to deny knowing anything about Rachel's mental health records which of course had been pulled. If they were going to know any more about it, it wouldn't be from him. For once having his secret known was helpful in this mess.

"What exactly caused the first incident?"

"I was worried about Rachel after she called. She was scared and I was concerned for her. When I got to her apartment it was up in flames." He stared past the neatly groomed individual in front of him and into the past, "First I called for help and then I went inside. I tried the door, but the knob was too hot. There was so much smoke coming from inside and I could feel the heat radiating off of the walls. I called for her, but I didn't hear an answer, only flames. The EMTs wouldn't be there in time, it was spreading too fast so I went inside."

"And you weren't concerned that anyone would see you?"

"I passed a few people on their way out and the hall was clear. Honestly I didn't care if they did see me; I wasn't going to just stand by." Bruce focused on the agent across from him now, slightly incredulous at the idea of him waiting.

"I see. And the second incident?" The agent's cool exterior was betrayed by a nervous gulp as he flipped through the open file.

"Her ex had taken her out of the city to this house in the middle of the woods. When we got there we heard a gunshot and before I knew it, I lost it."

"You didn't think to notify the police of the situation before leaving the city?"

"Obviously not." He was getting rather annoyed with this line of questioning. What was done was done and he knew if given the chance he wouldn't have responded any differently.

Alarmed by the clipped answer, Agent Walker proceeded to his next line of questioning. "Do you remember anything from your time as the Hulk?"

"In pieces. I remember looking for Rachel during the fire. Then Tony was there and I was leaving when the EMTs were arriving." He focused on what had come back since the Hulk came out, "The next time I remember gunshots. Tony and Steve in the way, I guess trying to stop me. I had him right in front of me, but then Rachel was there between us. After it was just us in this clearing, sitting there."

"Just sitting there?"

Bruce nodded, "He's calm around her. Gentle even. He cares about her too." He elaborated, taking conclusions from what he recalled and what the Hulk's actions said.

"Doctor Banner, we can't help but wonder if your friendship with Miss Brooke is healthy for you. Since you've come in contact with her, you've had two incidents. Perhaps being so close is not the best course of action." Agent Walker's voice was level, just as it had been from the start.

There it was. Bruce had been waiting for something like this to come up. Mimicking Agent Walker's stoic demeanor, Bruce replied just as evenly, "If I remember correctly I also had two incidents helping this organization not too far back. Are you suggesting I should avoid you as well?"

Backtracking, Agent Walker took a moment to reword his statement, "We simply think that being exposed to such stress from one individual would be doing more harm than good. From our records we can see that she has been in and out of therapy a number of times. That much unresolved instability can't be healthy to be around."

"Instability?" Bruce scoffed, "I don't know if you've noticed, but since the Other Guy came around there hasn't been a lot of stability in my life. Rachel accepts me either way, sees me for me, and you think that's a bad thing?" There was a pause where the agent across from him tried to come up with another approach, but before he could Bruce continued, "If that's all you need to know, I'd like to be finished with this."

Rising from his seat, Bruce exited the room. They had no right to make "suggestions" about his personal life and who he chose to spend his time around. Breathing deeply, he let the tension go. It didn't matter what they thought, he'd do as he pleased. In the hall Agent Romanoff, Tony, and Steve were waiting.

"Doctor Banner." Agent Barton addressed him as he joined the group from the next room over. He'd been listening in it seemed, "I'm sorry about that. I didn't know they'd—"

"Don't mention it." Bruce meant it as he nodded in understanding. Clearly the "suggestions" about his personal life weren't known to all. Maybe there was some hope for S.H.I.E.L.D after all. Hopefully Fury wasn't in on this as well. He wouldn't be quite sure what to make of this group if he were.

* * *

"Our records show that you've been in and out of therapy, is that correct?" Agent Miller prompted gently after hearing my account on recent events.

Swallowing dryly, I licked my lips nervously before answering, "Yes."

Nodding, she offered me a kind smile. It was one of the few she'd given me since this began. "In light of recent events, would you like to have a new therapist appointed for you? We think it would be very beneficial for you to seek help after having gone through such a stressful time."

Help? They think I'm crazy. "No, thank you. I don't think I need to see anyone right now." I managed, minding my tone as I fought to keep the bitterness out of it.

"If you change your mind, you only need contact us and we will find one for you." She continued unfazed. "Before we finish, I've been informed that Mr. Evans has requested to see you. If you agree, I can take you to see him though I'd strongly advise against it."

James actually requested to see me after everything? Did he seriously think I'd even consider coming close to him? "No, I'd like to go now please."

Agent Miller exited the room with me, leaving my side as I met up with Bruce and the others who'd been waiting for my interview to be finished. With only nods of recognition, Agents Barton and a red-headed woman who I assumed to be Romanoff began to escort us out of the facility. Hanging back, Bruce and I followed the group a few steps behind. Tony and Bruce exchanged looks and after a moment Tony nodded once and returned his attention to the group, seeming to have gotten whatever message Bruce was trying to convey.

We remained silent as the others, mainly Tony, started up a small conversation. Effortlessly, Tony held the attention of the others, addressing each if he sensed their focus going else ware. I see, he was trying to give us a moment to collect ourselves. Bruce quietly regarded me with a look of concern as he observed my reddened and puffy eyes. Stepping closer, he placed a gentle hand on my back and began to rub soothing circles.

"I'm fine." I lied, taking a deep breath as I tried to act the part.

"Your eyes are red." His voice was just above a whisper so that only I could hear it. "I'm not going to badger you. Just know that I'm here."

With a sigh, I nodded, "Thank you."

* * *

**AN: Sorry it's been so long since I've posted anything. I've been away at school and forgot to include an AN in the last chapter. Hope you enjoy it, thank you for reading and also to Speakfire. Merry Christmas. :)**


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